Chatterbox: Inkwell

New Short Story!!!!!!!

Blue-Eyed Child

The tongues of fire twine around the fallen trees, the fallen buildings. The only light in this blurry gray existence.

The gun in my hand is heavy, and warm. From use. I see the tanks prowling the wreckage, spewing grit out behind them.

I know it should be sunrise, but the clouds suffocate the beautiful rays. It is dark , as if it were night. I walk around a doorway standing alone, defiantly, while the rest of the house has fallen.

A tiny spurt of flame illuminates somehting colorful in the gray wreckage. I lean down and pick it up.

A doll. Porcelain face, clothes bright despite the fine coat of ash that lands lightly on her skirt.

In my mind, I see a girl, eight at most, crying as we force her from the house, reaching out her hand, screaming for her doll. Her eyes are blue, blue like how the sky once was. But where is this blue-eyed child?

What have we done?

    I fall to my knees, burying my face in my hands.

What have we done?