In the distance the sound of the battle could be heard. The alarm is sounding, all soldiers are being called to fight. We barely held them off last time, this time there would be no saving our city.

With tears in my eyes I embrace my husband as he too, wipes tears away. "You must flee, take our daughter and find somewhere safe. We will be together again." We'd already lost our son.

"I wish we had been born in the time of our grandparents. War was unknown then. Love and peace was all that was known." I cry as I hold onto him, knowing that when he leaves I won't see him again, not alive at least.

"We will be together again, as a family. I promise you that." With one last kiss he grabs his weapons and leaves our small home.

I swear I felt my heart break for the second time in that moment. The first was when I found our son with an arrow through his heart. That was two years ago. We thought we'd find peace here and for a short amount of time we did.

"Momma?" My sweet daughter's voice brings me back to reality. Her scared face tells me that she knows and understands that she'll never see her father again. Her fight against tears is as heart wrenching to me as saying goodbye to my husband had been.

"Come, love, we must go." I grab our two packs and head to the escape tunnels. Along the way we meet others fleeing the city. By the end of the day I won't be the only widow running for her life. Even if my husband isn't killed in the fighting, what they do to their prisoners is barbaric and cruel. I pray that he has a clean death in battle rather than the horrific death as a prisoner.

Time slows down as all I can do is hold on desperately to my daughter and follow the others to safety.

Night and day blend in to each other. By nightfall we fall exhausted to the ground. What little food there is we are too tired to fix. Cries of hunger from our children are hushed. We can't let our loved ones death be in vain. We are still too close to those that were once our brothers and are now our enemies.

Even before first light we are up. We manage to find some food at least for the children. We are able to fill our water containers and we drink thirstily. Then as soon as it's light enough for our children to see we are off.

We can only pray that we are able to find some place that will be a sanctuary to us.

Finally after several days of traveling, we come to a bluff. We are far from our previous home. We are far from all our people. Well they are no longer our people since they turned from us. We build or start to build homes once more. It is slow going since most of the men are either dead or we left them behind to fight. We left them to die. We know that, but it was a sacrifice they gave for us to live.

The children and a few of us women start gathering what food we can find. We've learned through bitter experience that no matter how unpalatable a food might be, it's far better than starvation. This land is arid and not very hospitable, edible food is difficult to find.

We manage to come up with some foods and bring them back to those working on shelters for us. All we can do is pray that we are able to gather in sufficient stores and have sufficient housing for the coming winter.

Animals that were once domesticated have become wild as the cities and towns are destroyed. Once houses are in we start the arduous task of trying to capture some of these animals and once more domesticating them.

Slowly the animals are captured and we are able to once more enjoy some of the simple pleasure of fresh milk, eggs, and meat.

A few of us are able to create looms and are able to spin thread. Soon new cloth is available for clothing. Thank goodness, what most of us have is worn and tattered. In our old lives we would have disdained using them for rags.

Thoughts of our old life and what it was like before the world went mad just bring about sorrow. My daughter gently wipes my tears away and we hold each other.

"I miss daddy," that's all she says as I hold her sobbing body. It's been months since we've fled our last home. It's the first time she mentioned him. War has taught her that life isn't what we want it to be.

"I know, baby, I know. I miss him and your brother very much too." Hunger is forgotten as we hold each other and mourn our dead family.

Winter is coming on and sightings of the enemy have come. It's unfair, so unfair. We've just made our new homes, just started settling in. Then disaster struck. My baby started coughing.

It seems that no matter what I did the coughing wouldn't get any better. Soon the coughs weren't slight they wracked her entire body. I could only watch in anguish as all attempts to heal her failed.

The ground is cold and hard. The enemy is close at hand. I have nothing left as we lay my child down in her cold grave. The grave is so shallow the animals are sure to dig it up or even the enemy to loot what it can from the body. Not that there is much to be taken.

I dressed my daughter for the last time in clothes I made for her, they were to be a birthday gift. One she never got to see. I carefully brushed her hair one last time and put in my last treasured crystal bead. She loved these hair beads, as had I. They were a gift from my parents, back when wars weren't common and only heard in the distance.

Back before my own family started hunting me and mine.

I collapse on the hard cold ground. I've lost them all.

"Come, the enemy is close at hand." One of the elders says to me pulling me upright.

"I can't leave her here all alone." My anguish knows no end.

"Her resting place will be protected. If it is ever disturbed she will be taken directly to Heaven. She is safe and no harm will come to her now." His words comfort me. At least she is safe now and no longer will be scared, lonely, hungry or sick. She will be with her father and brother and my grandparents.

As the last shovelful of dirt is poured onto her grave we sight the campfires of the enemy. We are too few to fight, we must flee.

With heavy heart I once more take my pack and leave behind another member of my family. Why am I the only one still living?

We flee and come to a city that welcomes us. This time I learn how to fight. There are too many losses for the women to not fight with the men.

Time has passed and I have no idea just how long it's been since I last said goodbye to my daughter and husband.

The enemy is attacking. I stay behind to help fight back the attackers to give the other women and children a chance to flee.

Three find me and come after me. I can see their eyes gleam with lust. They think that I'll be easy prey and that they'll have some fun before they take me back. They will then let their compatriots have fun with me as well.

I don't think so.

I manage to take one down with an arrow before they are too close. I drop the bow and run to a secondary position where I have my spear. The soldier now angry at the loss of his sick friend runs after me, intent on harming me.

Instead he runs himself onto the spear taking him down.

There is no time to free the spear as the third one comes in.

I feel his sword enter my gut even as I watch his maniacal smile turn to a confused look as my knife slices his neck.

I may never be buried, but I died honorably.

"Mommy!" My daughter runs up to me and jumps into my arms. My son and husband come up to me and with tears in all our eyes we have the first full family embrace since my son died.

"Welcome home love, welcome home." The whispered words of my husband bring me peace.