“Eric. ‘YOU READY’!”

His father yelled, as if he was yelling for his life.

“Almost, give me a minute.”

Eric scoured through his shelf of new books, he asked his father to buy for him.

“Found, song of the cell, found the song of ice and fire series,...ahh shit, where’s that book about the civil war.”

He began searching through the bookshelf faster to avoid hearing his father’s yelling again. And finally he found the inspirational book he heard so much about, from his history teacher.

“Finally found it.” He stared at the book with curiosity.

“A long walk to water.” The words escaped his mouth as if he had been possessed for just a single second.

“Eric, what’s taking you so long”.

His father’s yell sent a frightened unexpected shiver down his spine.

“I'm coming”.

“Hurry up”.

Eric stuffed the books down his book bag along with his laptop, notebook, and pens and pencils, and rushed down the stairs to the garage, with his luggage and book bag. His father stood next to the car, drinking a can of coke.

“What took you so long? If we get there by nighttime, your granny will give me a headache amount of yelling. You know how she is”.

Hearing that, Eric chuckled softly.

“Sorry, sorry, I was searching for those new books you got me”.

Eric’s father let out a sigh.

“When did you even get into reading”.

“Aaaah, about 5 months ago”.

“Is grandma going to have a feast?”.

His father took a moment to finish the can of coke before responding.

“Of course, she hasn’t seen us for about…4 years now. So yeah, the old lady is definitely cooking up a storm.”

Eric’s father laughed briefly, followed with a light smile from his son.

“Alright, let’s go see the old woman”. His father said, while throwing the coke can to the rubbish bin from about 20 feet away with insane accuracy.

Everytime he sees his father perform impressive feats such as that, he would think his father could have been a famous Basketball player, rather than a famous model, if he pursued it when he was younger.

“Mr. Deng, could you get the gate open”. His father said ordering his gate man in a very kind respectful tone. The type of tone a person talks to their grandparents with.

“Sure, saw”. Mr. Deng exclaimed.

Old Mr. Deng hurried to the gate, with speed not suited his age. Eric and his father told him repeatedly to be careful, but it seems to him and his father that old age comes along with stubborness.

Eric and his father got into the BMW, and drove off. Before he left the compound, Eric turned back and waved at the saddened maids, they waved back with a smile that shivered. The staff were like his family. They came along to his trips, to Nigeria and Egypt, and even to the U.S to visit his mom. And everytime he got in trouble (which rarely happens) or got banned from drinking soda, the maids and Mr. Deng always came to his rescue and defended him. The reason why they aren’t going with them was because they were from the Dinka tribe. Eric doesn’t know why, but his grandmother doesn’t like them at all. But he did know the protagonist of the book he wanted to read so badly was from the Dinka tribe. He also knew the protagonist was the one who was responsible for bringing water to South Sudan. So he finds it really hard to see why she dislikes the Dinka’s. But putting that aside, in the course of the next couple weeks, they will miss each other dearly, even if it’s just a couple weeks.

Suddenly he wondered about something, his father never really told him how long the trip would take.

“Hey, paps, how long until we reach South Sudan”.

“Well, am, from here to there, it should take us about 9 hours”.

“9 hours”. Eric said, shocked beyond belief.

“Well, you see why I told you to hurry up”.

“But I thought it would take us about 4 hours”.

“You wish”. His father said eyebrows high, followed with a smirk, that was made with nothing but amusement at the chance of them reaching South Sudan in just 4 hours. That seemed to be near miracle level to him.

Eric let out a sigh to mentally prepare himself to have a headache that could only be cured by sleeping.

Hearing his sigh he laughed.

“I’ma just kill time by reading”.

Eric pulled out the book he has been dying to read,surprisingly even more than the song of Ice and Fire.

“What book are you going to read this time?”. His father said sarcastically.

“A long walk to water”.

“Oh that book, I heard your aunt wouldn't stop talking about that book, so when you asked me to buy it for you I thought it must be good, so I listened to the audio book”.

“How was it?”. Eric asked.

“Well, it’s life changing, it might even change a person’s perspective of the world. I don't wanna go into too many details because I don't wanna spoil it for you”.

“Oh, alright.” Eric said enthusiastically

He didn’t know what he should expect, but he knew there was something special about that book. Since everyone was talking about it and giving positive reviews, he thought how could it not be good. Under his skin he could feel the excitement, the hunger, tormenting his body and mind to just find out what experience is in that book.

As he was just about to open the book cover, his dad started playing Not Like Us".

“Ok paps, the song is funny, but it isn’t even that good”.

“You just hating”.

He then turned it up even more, with a smirk as wide as his taste in music.

Eric mumbled to himself that the song was annoying, while putting the book back into his bag.

Few hours later

His dad was now listening to one of Ye's albums. Due to the music and being trapped inside the car for hours, he began to feel that pulsing headache, he swore that it’s as if his brain was beating like a heart. The pain was excruciating, it forced his body to go into its own healing process, that was improving, and proving more effective with each headache he had to endure.

He began feeling his eye eyelids growing heavy, by each passing second. Turning to the window, he saw 2 copies of each car passing by. Eric began to wonder, is this what people who take drugs and smoke weed feel. He didn’t fight it, he gave in, and allowed his eyelids to slowly collapse on him. His head knocked against the car window, with a thud, but he didn’t feel anything. Eric was knocked out, fast asleep. His father glanced at him, smiling, eyes lit with love.

The screams, the crying, the yelling for aid, all mixed and rong in Eric’s ears. It’s all he could hear, the music of death. The entire city was out, the only source of light was the fire that ravaged the city. All around him, men, women, children, were burning alive. Women crying in front of their dead husbands bodies, that have been crushed under the rubble. Men screaming due to getting a limb amputated, or maybe they got it blown off by grenades and bombs. Children screaming and crying, digging up rubble where their parent’s squashed bodies were buried. Their screams give off the scent of their emotions, devastating and sadening. Their screams were tragic, their screams traveled from his ears to his heart, squeezing it, their suffering grabbing his ankles, arms, and shoulders. The sadening, terrifying, voice of suffering screamed at him, “Please save me sir. Please help me sir. Please someone help me get the rubble off my parents. I know they're alive, they promised”. The grip on his heart was tight, his heart pumping rapidly, his breathing unstable, his mind cracking, but just as always he put himself together and breathed in and out, trying with all his might not to reach for his waist and put a gun to his head. He was now calm and walked forward with the weight of hundreds of thousands of souls, if not millions. With each step he took, he felt like falling down, and going into a deep slumber for all of eternity, but he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to his mind and body’s plea to just stop, but he refused, not now, not until he makes a world she could be happy in. He thought, as he was walking down the road, he saw women and children, with ripped clothes, exposing their bodies, but they didn’t seem to notice, and if they did, they wouldn’t care, how could they, they lost everything, their belongings, there food they have been saving, and their new families they have been cultivating since the war started, it’s all gone. Their hair was a mess, some burned and covered in dirt, their eyes were dull and looked like they had different lenses they use to see the world. They awakened it, they had his eyes, they had the abyss of human nature’s eyes. Their eyes were leaking tears that glided down their faces continuously, just like a cascade. Eric noticed their faces were wearing make-up of a stark facial expression, he knew the aftermath forcibly held them down and put it on them. Just like many and many aftermaths did to him. He kept on walking, then stopped abruptly, there was a girl, looking to be in her mid teens. She was completely naked, revealing several cuts and bruises on her body. Her wounds were covered in dirt, but still oozed with sparkling blood. Eric couldn't describe what he was seeing, even if somebody asked him to. It’s just something about It’s just something about her that seemed divine. Her blood was like water, transparent, but not at the same time, it was like gold, beautiful and shiny, thus seductive. For a moment he wondered, what does her blood taste like. But try as he might, his taste bud couldn't reminisce nor conjure anything that might have even the slightest taste to her. Water, pork, chicken, soda, nothing was coming to mind. For a second he wondered, was she a unchosen one, but he quickly drove the thought out from his mind. If she was, she would have attacked someone already. As she got closer, Eric could fully make out her appearance. Her curly blond hair perfectly framed her face, her hair was blonde enough that people could be deceived into thinking it was white. She had plump pink lips, with breast rather than actually hanging down actually clung to her chest, Her waste was narrowmand her legs wasn’t that of a pretty girl, but that of a beautiful woman. Her skin was as white as snow, she was albino. And her face was,..... Horrible disgusting, tragic, and……. terryfying. Her face was…. Lit with the brightest of beautiful of smile’s. A smile Eric has not seen in a very long time. People smiles was always tainted by the things they have seen, and done. But her smile looked real as a real smile could get. She looked happy,... or was she insane, turned insane just like many people have, when they lost their reason for living. She was now giggling, that giggle turned into a smile, that smile turned into laughter and that laughter turned into a sickening laughter, a laughter that made him reminise about all the times he had lost himself, about all the times he had to make a difficult decisions. No, that’s not the right way to say it. About all the decisions he was forced to make, decisions that haunted him everynight. It was a laugh that was familiar to him, a laugh that haunted him every night he laid next to her.

She began pulling her hair, crying, while laughing like a mad person. She went over to the half collapsed building and began banging her head against the wall, again, and again, until a stream of blood ran down her face. Eric, just like the selfish young monster he is, he rushed to her, tackling her to the ground, hugging her tightly. The way he would’ve hugged her if she was here. Her gut wrenching laughter was replaced by weeping, of a pathetic, weak, little girl that was in need of a hero. But did she ever think her hero would be a monster? So why did the murderer Eric, save a girl from the edge of insanity, just by giving her a mare hug, just by doing a brief minor action of sympathy and intimacy. He saved her because….. He was a terrible person.