This war is horrible. We’ve already lost so many. Too many of those lost are people I care about. I don’t want to die here. I just want to go back home. I miss my family, my wife, and I want to meet my new born baby girl. I’m trapped behind enemy lines. Running, running, trying not to get killed so that I can be the daddy my little girl needs me to be. I notice that no one seems to aim for me, even though I was out in the open. That’s a good thing I guess. But, as I keep ducking and hiding I see some soldiers watching me. They’re just standing there, looking at me with pity in their eyes and sad lost looks on their faces. They seem to be weaponless like me, but they aren’t even trying to keep themselves from dying, like they have nothing to live for.

It’s not my problem right now, my priority is making it home for Christmas. As I look around, I notice that they’re everywhere. Their uniforms are torn and bloody, just like their flesh, and I wonder how they’re still alive. They start coming towards me and I try to figure out why, when there’re so many others they could target. They start coming in faster, just like the rain, pouring in all around me. The slush in the ground and my boots are making it harder to run, and I pray to God that I don’t die today. It’s like the faster I run, the closer they get, yet their legs barely seem to be moving. One of them reaches out for me, and I lose my footing and fall.

I land face first in the mud, stunned, trying to figure out how that happened. I try getting up, but it’s too slippery and I keep falling back to the ground. In my struggle to get back up, I can feel their disgusting breath down my neck, and I blindly crawl away, the mud in my eyes stinging, but I ignore it. Finally, I find the ability to get up, and I run away, the only thing on my mind is not getting taken away by those… things.

As I frantically search for a place to hide, a question enters my head: how has no one noticed a fairly large group of people running around? The question leaves my head when I spot a pit that’s about a hundred fifty feet away. I look around to see if I can reach the pit without any interference when I could have sworn I saw my brother’s face. But I know that it couldn’t have been him. My little brother’s dead now. He died in combat right in front of my eyes. Tried so hard to get him back, but there was nothing they could do. The pain of the memory wretched me apart, but I had to keep going.
I was thinking about how I wished I could tell him I loved him one more time when I pull out of my reverie. The pit’s right in front of me. I run at it despite the pain in my chest, and I dive in before anyone can stop me. The all too familiar stench of death is what hits me first. I hate it. I finally get over the blow from diving in and get up. I rub my eyes, and I realize that what I’ve been standing on is dead bodies. I look around, and I recognize the faces of those who have been chasing me. I turn around and look down, seeing the most familiar face of all. Mine.

Credit To: Daniela Benson

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