Argo looked confused at his mother. His mother was a homely woman; Her round, rosy cheeks that were well framed by her dark flowing hair were now sunken into her face. Her dark eyes shifted nervously around the room, her stained skin on her forehead wrinkled more than normal.
He huddled into his tattered coat, on his pallet on the floor. His mother stood from the chair frame, her toes turning an unsightly shade of purple. Looking in their cracked mirror, she patted her thickly knotted hair into place. There was a fierce knock on their wicker door. His mother's eyes flicked fearfully towards the door.
“Argo, get your brother,” she whispered.
“No buts, go get your brother and hide!” His mother pushed him through the door less frame.
He grabbed his infant brother and shoved his small fingers into a space between two panels in the wall. He crouched into the space and closed the panels. He looked at his little brother laying on his lap and clutched his brother, trembling. Screams from the next room made him shake in fear. Slowly but surely, he felt footsteps enter the room. Tears streamed down his face as the footsteps grew closer to him and his brother. “No! I killed them! Look and see, come with me!” The mother begged. Argo felt the hand that hit his mother, hit his pride.
His mother's broken sobs made him curious enough to slightly part the sheets of wood. The muzzle of a Colt M1911 sitting on his mother's temple froze the tears in his eyes as his anger began to boil. His mother shook her head at him, blinking back her tears of fear. He watched the officer coldly stare down at the defenseless woman shake, protecting her children.
The barrel was pushed into her skin. Argo sat on his feet, with the infant laying on his boney thighs. The officers were joking around, pretending to take shots for each others' amusement. His mother whimpered, sitting completely still against the gun. Argo clenched his fists, ground his teeth and watched as the men terrorized his mother.
The officer with the gun smiled jubilantly, forcing the trigger into the grip. Argo's mother flopped forward with the force of the bullet. “Little b- should have given those boys up,” the officer snickered, violently kicking the woman's body.
The officers tramped out if the house, leaving behind pain, blood and mud stained floors. Argo took the baby from his lap and slowly parted the panels, inching out towards their mother. Tearfully he knelt next to the body and laid his brother next to her. “Mom?” he shook his lifeless mother, “Mom! Please wake up!” he sobbed into her rugged skin and torn shirt. He gripped her body, tearing at her skin, hair and clothing.
He stood, hours later with his face dry. Little Zanx cried from his makeshift cradle next to his cold mother. Argo lifted the baby from the floor, holding the fragile being in his arms. Turning his back on the shell of his mother, he passed in the living room.
Looking around the blank room, he had decided.
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