Nine months later she bore a child. He was blonde haired and brown eyed, the bastard son of an occupying force whose mother was raped and forced into silence. The son grew up thinking nothing of his origins, thinking nothing as to his father’s whereabouts. The woman was grateful that he didn’t, she couldn’t bare to tell him. It tore her up inside, she hadn’t told anyone who’s son it was. They just assumed it was her boyfriend’s, but the whispers still went around, none of it true, truth had lost all meaning in her town. Finally, after several more years, the war ended and the troops were leaving. She went to see the parade of men march out of the war torn city. She watched intently, holding her son on her hip. His eyes had grown into their color, a deep sky blue. Her son had turned into a beautiful Aryan boy. It was for this reason the soldier had raped her: to destroy her lineage. It was through this that he had destroyed her whole way of life. Her son was everything she stood. "There was no reply, but shortly they saw a woman come out, rifle at the ready. Next, out came a young man, then a young woman, and finally another young man. They, too, were equipped with rifles."Hand's up," she called out. Bob nodded to the boys and they complied with the request. "Who are you and why are you here?"Ma'am, if you will look to the other end of the valley you'll see our wagons. We're just a family traveling to Texas. We saw your fire and came to help. When we got to the top of the rise, my son Rob saw the smoke of your attacker's guns. We mounted our horses and flanked the bandits. I miscounted, and took a round in my arm because of it." Oh," the woman exclaimed. She hadn't noticed until he mentioned it. She handed her rifle to the older boy and hurried over to Bob. With concern on her face, she examined his wound. She discovered it was a clean 'through and through', with an entrance and exit wound. It had missed the bone. This was a good thing. Unfortunately, the.
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