Blood splattered all over him with a limp body in his hands, he tried to speak or scream with howling pain, but all he could find himself doing was gasp for breath with tears streaming down his eyes; he struggled shaking ferociously with the body cradling in his arms and he hugged the body close to his chest and under the unremitting flow of hot tears he finally found his voice he found himself sobbing like a baby and out of anguish he gave out a howling cry like a wounded coyote but still; he couldn't find words, the wind seemed to be cruelly encouraging the trees to sway he felt them laugh at him and his misery, he was hoping for a sign of civilisation, his eyes were frantically searching,searching for some help however, the setting sun was clearly abating his hope of help, still he couldn't let go of hope, not now at least, wanting in desperation for help to arrive praying silently (though not a firm believer he realised that this event had put the fear of God in him) he looked up at the sky,brilliantly lit up in incandescent colours; a complete contradictory to his emotion; his eyes glared with challenge as if challenging God to show compassion,to prove his existence, to make him believe—of all the days today, he needed his faith to be true; ‘Somebody help’, he heard a frail voice, it made him look around frantically with a gleam of hope but, his hope crushed as he realised that the pathetically feeble voice he heard was his, glad in a way to have found his voice he started shouting for help, he got up with the weightless bundle in his arms and started walking towards nowhere crying, sobbing, screaming, shouting...with a hesitant anticipation of help, afraid of the time being wasted; fearful that if it is too late he might lose her, his life, his hope, his precious little girl...
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