Author: myheartsegg PM
The world isn't perfect. For what purpose do we fight for this barren and desolate ground that we stand on? For what purpose do we risk, and give our lives up for? For what purpose...?Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Drama - Words: 447 - Published: 09-28-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3061706
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Boom!" The battle starts now. The repetitive thumping of the soldiers' feet sound are an assault to your ears after the deafening silence.
Gunshots ring through the air and chaos spreads. Shouts of pain are heard on all sides, and one must learn to ignore. Block out all the soul-shredding screams that sound like the dead awakening from their very graves.
The rumbling of the tanks shake the Earth, and it is easy to sense their proximity. The grey and hectic world is shaking below the feet of your comrades' beat the rough, neglected ground in which you fight for.
A bad omen follows you like the plague, and you have a gut instinct that tells you that you are likely not to make it out of this one alive.
The erratic movement of the wounded is a give-away to their location, and soon, they are the literal example of a fiery death. Bombs drop from the sky unexpectedly, and it begins to rain gunpowder.
Everything reeks of death. You pay your respects to those who have died in the battle. In every war, there is heartbreak for those who are left. You have seen them; shot, slashed, blown up, torn to shreds.
Explosions and choking smoke break you off from the recollection. A disturbance is in the air. The whorls of air buffet the swayable, and the chopping from the helicopter's blades cut through the air with ease.
The weighty artillery door is opened, and a stream of buzz cuts and fresh camouflaged uniforms the enemy's side pour out of the thick metal doors. Every face in this battle field is intense. There is obvious fear and determination mixed in on their expressions.
The chances of our country winning are little to none. You must inform the others! The static fuzz pierces your heavy breaths. There is no signal, you must go in alone.
You position the barrel at the nearest target. Looking through the gun's scope, you pick the to-be prey. Without warning, there is a searing pain in your abdomen. You've been hit. You collapse to the ground with a distant "thud."
The world flickers to black for a minute, then turns bleak, and so does your future. The colors gradually sap from your remaining eyesight, and the world becomes stained in crimson blood.
The droplets fall through the sky like petals falling off a wilted flower. Finally, destruction batters the world you once knew, vibrant, stunning, and full of life and elation.
You hope the undertaker guides your soul swiftly and safely to heaven, where you may watch over your grieving family as a guardian angel.