The darkness was not just a lack of light; it was a warm, soft blanket. The burning pain from the knife was gone, replaced by a dull, distant ache. I was floating, lost in a quiet world of nothing. But then, the darkness began to fade, and a light appeared. It was the warm, golden light of my old home.
The room smelled of cinnamon and sweet cakes. My mother was singing a soft song, her voice a melody I had forgotten. My father was holding me, his hand a soft, warm weight on my head. He was laughing. I had never seen him so happy. It was a perfect day. My parents were alive. I was a child again. I was safe.
But then, the laughter stopped. A sharp, loud noise. The front door of our home was kicked in. Men in black coats came in, their faces cold and hard. They were like the men who had ambushed me, but older. They were ghosts from my past. My mother screamed, and my father's face went white.
He pushed me behind him. "Run, Balen!" he said, his voice a low, hard whisper. "Run and don't look back."
My mother knelt down and hugged me, her face wet with tears. "Be brave, my son," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Be brave."
Then they were gone. The men took them, and I was just a child watching. I was a child who couldn't fight. I was a child who could only watch. My father, just before they dragged him out the door, looked back at me. His eyes were not angry. They were full of love and a silent promise. The coldness came back. The image of their faces being dragged away, a flash of their final look of fear and love, stayed in my mind. I was falling again, a boy with no parents, no home.
Then, for a moment, the dream broke. I felt a sharp, brutal wave of pain in my side. A searing fire that was more real than anything else. But it lasted only a second. The warmth of the blanket returned, and the pain faded into a distant ache once more. The voices were just whispers in the quiet dark. My parents were gone, but their faces were burned into my mind. I was a child, helpless and alone. But I would not be again.
I was falling, but this time, my mind was not empty. It was full of one single thought. I would find them. I would finish this. And then, the darkness took over once more.