He had seen the horror of death and destruction. He had seen the horrors of rape. He had seen much. He had holed up in a crumbled remnant of a univer...ity he could no longer remember. He knew he was safe. The soldiers had long ago abandoned this playground. He was alone. His father having passed away when he was five, his mother strangled to death by a soldier who didn’t like how much she fought against him. He ran then. He ran long and hard trying to forget the pain and anger on his mother’s. "I've been awake for a while," she says smiling. "I just watched you with my eyes barely open so they looked closed. You were just sitting there staring at me, like you like me or something." I've always thought of you as a work of art," I said quietly. "I guess if I had the chance, I'd look at you forever."She slapped me on the leg and started laughing. "This isn't a museum, Dummy," she said. "And if I was a piece of art, you are the owner of the museum. You don't have to just look at me. You. More

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