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It was all relatively quiet. People were talking and just doing what they always did really. But with the sound of guns suddenly ringing in the air, the peaceful ally erupted into chaos. People were screaming and running. Everyone was so frantic that they didn’t even realize that they trampled on and accidentally killed anyone who had fallen. I tried to maneuver my way through and out of the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted an old truck. I made for it, barely reaching it with the crowd pushing against me. It was pouring hard. The rain felt almost like little bullets, stinging against my skin.
My heart was pounding and the noise around me was deafening. I jumped trying to reach the hood of the truck. I barely made it. But with the slipperiness from the rain and my short height, I was barely holding onto it. I kept slipping down despite my flailing arms trying to pull myself further up. I truly thought that I was going to fall. I kept on seeing myself being trampled by the stampede of people. I tried to use my nails to claw my way up, but it didn’t work. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I slipped down the truck.
Just then, I heard my name.
“Simba!” a strong deep voice called out. I knew the voice could belong to no other than my father.
“Dad! I’m over here!” I cried to him. I was loosing my grip too fast. I was going to fall. But as I slid down from the hood of the truck, I suddenly felt a strong grip pull me upward. I looked back to see my father’s panic-stricken face. I lifted me onto the top of the truck, and prepared to climb up himself. But just as he jumped up, someone nocked into him with tremendous force.
He fell down, and struggled to get back up. Too many people were running everywhere; he was being run over. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and my heart beat in my throat.
“Dad!” I cried to him. I stayed in the car roof feeling helpless and alone. I watched as the stampede of people dissipated for what felt like hours.
The moment the last of the people had gone, I slid down the hood of the truck. I landed in a puddle on the sidewalk and slipped, landing on my back. Scrambling up I ran over to where my dad lay. His dark ebony skin was littered with bruises and scrapes. He was bleeding, but he didn’t move. Kneeling next to him I pushed against his arm like I always had when I woke him up. But he still didn’t move. I moved over and tickled his ears.
“Dad, please,” I croaked. “Wake up! Please…”
I pulled myself up and ran around wildly.
“Somebody! Please! My dad needs help!” I screamed to the air at the top of my lungs. “My dad needs…”
I realized that nobody was coming. I walked back to where my father lay. I fell down and rested myself against him, just as I always did when I snuck into his bed. I stayed there, tears silently streaking my face. But then I heard the sound of footsteps.
Seeing my uncle, I rushed over to him. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his suit. I felt his smooth hand stroking my head.
“H- he’s d- d- dead,” I stuttered.
“Oh my!” my uncle knelt down next to his brother’s body. “Simba, this is your fault.”
“But I didn’t mean for him to get hurt. I only wanted to take a walk,” I cried.
“Yes, but accidents like this happen even if people don’t mean for them to happen. But what in the world will everyone think? How will your mom react?” he said to me.
“Help me! What should I do?” I sniffed.
“What is there to do, Simba? You caused your father’s death!” he exclaimed.
“Please, uncle. What must I do?” I asked again, more tears pouring from my eyes.
“Simba, there are no solutions. The only thing that you can do to make things easier for the rest of us is to disappear!” he replied coldly.
“Y- you mean run away?” I gasped.
“Yes. Run away and disappear. And never come back,” he gazed at my harshly.
His words rung in my head. Then, I took off. I had no clue as to where I was going or what I was to do, but I just ran. I ran and cried until no more tears would come from my eyes. I ran until my legs gave in and I collapsed, my uncle’s words still ringing in my head. ‘You caused your father’s death!’