Monologue Of Cato

I awoke to the noise of Cato screaming as if he were being pulled apart by the limbs. My father soon yelling, “Agrippa! Get up and comfort your brother!” I was tempted to point out that I felt he should not be my responsibility, but I would most likely be punished for speaking out of turn. I slowly walked over to the baby as I realized that it was still dark outside. I took the two year old into my arms and did my best to hold back my anger. I decided I would start making breakfast since I probably couldn’t get to sleep after this. I changed his cloth then, while still holding Cato I found the mortar, pestle, and started to smash some grapes. While still smashing, I watched the beautiful sunrise out the window. I heard a shriek come from Cato, then his tiny, carnivore-like teeth dug into my shoulder. I squealed and almost dropped him, which brought my mother running frantically into the room.
Her hair was messy, but still had the angelic curl that I’ve always been jealous of. She jerks him away as if I had beaten him.

I continue smashing grapes when I begin to feel a rumble at my feet.
Vases fall off of shelves, Mother sits Cato on the ground, gets on her knees and blindly prays. Father stomps in and asks me if I knew what was going on, I think oh yes the Gods and I had a long detailed conversation about it. He looked at me as if he could read my mind and was offended. The quaking stops after a minute or two and we go on about our day. I put the grapes in a small bowl for Cato. He instantly splashes the mush straight onto the floor and gives me a fiendish smile. My mother kisses my father on the cheek and says “Have a great day Aemilianus, you too Agrippa.” I looked at them with pure joy and confusion. “This isn’t something I want you to expect on a daily basis.” he said “But, just for today I’m going to let you see me work and maybe even paint a little.” I jumped up with pure glee and jumped into his arms. This had been a dream of mine since I was a small child. I quickly run into my room, change out of my sleepwear, hug my mother and walk joyfully out of the house with my beloved
father.

I watch my father's brush glide against the wall. Slowly forming a masterpiece. He was painting a dark skinned woman with beautiful features and a crown made of wild flowers. Who looked almost exactly like my mother, she was looking to the left and it seemed she was looking at something stunning, something she really cared about. Just as he finished the last gleam in her eye we heard a large boom. We could overhear people screaming for their kids, praying, sobbing. We peeked outside to see what was wrong, and we saw a tower of smoke billowing from the mountain above us.

There was panic in the streets. People did not hesitate to right their wrongs with the Gods. Or at least attempt to. We rushed out of the building to find my mother and Cato. We eventually spot my mother on the ground, kneeling, cradling Cato. Hysterically sobbing, begging the Gods for forgiveness. They lept into each other's arms then included me in the group hug. Cato had a look of despair in his eyes. Just as though he understood our fate, but had not yet accepted it. We hurried back to our home and took shelter in the cellar. After about two hours of sharing fond memories and shedding tears, we began hearing people screaming and telling others to escape. Cato was bundled up in my arms, nuzzling his head against my chest. I couldn’t help to be mad at myself for the hateful feelings I’ve had against him, like this morning. I knew things would never be the same. We could hear the shear terror in the voices above us. Tears started running down my father's face as he was moaning that he was ashamed of himself. He said “You deserve much better than this. All of you.” We all sat in silence as we watched him cry. I’d never seen my father cry, he was humiliated at the thought of showing emotion. In that moment I knew without a doubt in my mind that this was serious. I hadn't fully registered it before then. This brought my father to tears. Which I wasn’t even sure was possible. I bursted into tears and threw myself into his arms. I was proud of him. After what felt like an eternity of silence interrupted periodically by sobbing and holding each other, we heard screams and loud bangs overhead. A huge roar the left my ears ringing. We looked at each other with wide eyes. Cato screamed almost as loud as the deafening boom and I started feeling sick to my stomach. I couldn’t express what I was feeling at the moment so I started hyperventilating and I crawled into my mothers arms. I’ve never felt such deep rooted anxiety. I wasn’t scared of dying, I was scared of dying without them, I was scared of what was after death. At this point I was questioning if there was such a thing as a God, I think all of us were. I had come to the realization that this was the end for us. But what made me sad was the thought “Will I ever see you again?” That haunted me. What if I wouldn’t meet them again one day in a gorgeous open field like people said we would? What if after this it’s nothing? Just darkness? I couldn’t bear the thought.

Ages of stillness passed and I was numb. The last thing I remember is lying next to my baby brother bundled against Mother. He started snoring loudly. Mother and I looked at each other and chuckled. For a second we forgot what was happening. She said with a soothing voice “Everything will be okay.” I believed her for a moment. “I hope so.” I said with a faint smirk. “I love you.” she said. “I love you more.”