Hope

My Dear Child,

I am your father, I don’t know your name, or if you had been born a boy or a girl.

All I know of you is what I’ve been lucky enough to witness from watching you grow, for sometime now. I feel blessed with the time that we’ve had and I need to let you know of the love I feel for you. A love I didn’t think I was ever capable of feeling again. I have you to thank for that my child.

I have fathered before, I know it’s my duty like every other man and woman of birthing age, yet you have been different to all the others.
Being placed so close to your Mother for this length of time has allowed me to get to know you and see you grow.
We have been fighting hard together for the past six months or so, at a guess. Their numbers are relentless and unforgiving but we still survive. It’s a miracle we’ve made it through this winter. The cold can be ignored but with food being so scarce it makes it hard to have the energy to fight. Your Mother’s resilience and determination has kept me going. I don’t know where she gets her strength from but I think it has a lot to do with you.
I didn’t think I’d see something so beautiful again in my lifetime, yet to see her hunkered down in the shelter, bleeding and in pain and the smile she gave you whilst she was slowly rubbing her stomach made my eyes fill with tears.

The time is getting near for your Mother to leave soon, taking you off to a safer place away from the worst of the fighting, to get ready for your release you into this World when the time is right. For that I’m sorry but it’s what has to be done. My heart aches to go with you and keep you safe but this is not possible. You will not be alone as we are all truly one now.

Always remember, this is our World, not theirs. Don’t ever allow what happens to you in your life change that. We will survive; we will claim back our lands and our seas. No matter how hard things get, no matter how impossible and futile things become, carry on the fight, it’s all we can do.
Your carers will tell you this over and over again, but I want you to hear it from me, your Dad.

Your mother has given you this locket which will be kept with you as best as can be, who-ever you are with.

I don’t even know if you will be able to read this letter, I don’t know which towns and cities are left, or if the people in them will be able to teach you to read. I have hope.

My name is Mark Douglas, your Dad, living in Manchester, though we are at what used to be known as Southampton for the moment, there’s nothing much left of it now.
I think I’m 37. I can’t remember how long it’s been since they came. Back then we had names to mark the days. Some people still do but most conflict with each other. Mostly we guess.

I wish you could have seen those old days my baby, where life was safe, food was plentiful and the towns were fixed in one place. Now we are those towns constantly on the move. Manchester is back down to 27 people, we are expecting some newcomers soon. Hopefully they will bring better news about London. This is where your Mother is from and due to return too after she has birthed you. No recent coordinates of London are known yet, or if it has any surviving residents for her to go back to. If not, London will be reborn and it will carry on being there, so long as we are here to keep it that way.

I’m glad you didn’t experience the day they came from their World to ours. Those that are left and old enough to recount it won’t. I don’t blame them.
At times I wished I could have blocked it all out from my memories but now I understand why I need to remember, what they did and why I fight. Not only to help us survive but to make them hurt, make them suffer and make them pay for what they have done to us.

I dreamt one night we were at my Dad’s house. I made you a rope swing in the same tree where my Dad had built me a tree-house. I couldn’t see your face, though I knew you were there, I could hear you laughing. I could have stayed in that dream for an eternity. That place only remains in my dreams now. I yearn to go back there but my dreams have been replaced with the nightmares. Again, I have you to thank for that dream.

Listen to and learn from your carers my child, they will teach you how to survive.
Have hope, this is all we have left. My hope is that you will one day be able have the life I once had.

You are my hope, you are my future. Stay safe and strong my child, god bless.

Love from your Dad.
Mark Douglas
Manchester, England

Thank you for sharing your story!

What i liked best about it was even though it was short, with the few words you chose, you really painted the picture of a nomadic society searching for some semblance of "normality" after a time of struggle . And in keeping the Invaders vague you allow each reader to paint thier own "picture" of what they might be.

Seems like the contest this year has really motivated alot of our writers to participate

Respectfully,

~meathead

Originally posted by Mike Stivic
Thank you for sharing your story!

What i liked best about it was even though it was short, with the few words you chose, you really painted the picture of a nomadic society searching for some semblance of "normality" after a time of struggle . And in keeping the Invaders vague you allow each reader to paint thier own "picture" of what they might be.

Seems like the contest this year has really motivated alot of our writers to participate

Respectfully,

~meathead

Hey, thank you Meathead. I really appreciate that, you've made my day.
This is the first story I have put online. I know my grammar isn't upto standard, that's why I haven't done so before. Sadly I only have myself to blame for that.

I really enjoy writing, it's a different side to the creativity I usually put down through art.

Thank you