Screams rang in my ears. Blood and dirt was everywhere. Death was all around me. Time seemed to stop. The rush of adrenaline pumped through my system. I felt my bayonet embed itself in skin. As I pulled it out again, I heard a grunt and a thump on the ground. I stumbled forward as I gagged, and kicked the dead body beneath me. The pungent aroma of sweat, blood, and fire swam in the air. My eyes were blinded by tears and smoke. Why, why! Cannot I be spared this horror? Dirt swam before my eyes, like an enveloping mist. I braced myself, waiting. All around me I could hear my comrades fighting and dying. I spun around in circles, my bayonet poised and sharp.
Afraid, so afraid. I cannot die, too young, too young.
A tall, brown haired man, dressed in a dark gray suit and holding a rifle sprung out of the dust in front of me. I raised my bayonet and lay weight on my finger, hearing the crack of the bullet. The jolt from shooting the gun vibrated through my hands and torso as I heard the body of the man thud to the ground. Oh god! Oh god! Lila! Lila, I need you! I need you to hug me, to kiss me. I need to touch your swollen tummy, in which sits our precious child! I want you! I wanna come home! I never wanna fight again! Oh god! Oh god! Lowering my bayonet a foot, I could feel the weakness swirling in my head. My heart was beating fast, like a drum playing the beat to my untimely death. I kept walking, trying to see where more confederate soldiers were, so that I could stick my bayonet in them. They probably are as afraid as I am. Really, who am I to kill them, to steal their precious young lives away? I wiped away a strand of my blond hair from before my eyes. I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my back and arms.
At once, it seemed as if all the dirt melted away from around me. I could see everything in painstakingly, terrifying, cold realism. I watched as my friends and comrades shot their rifles and bayonets. I watched the men running at each other, and fighting one another, blood leaking across their tattered uniforms. I screamed as a fighter near me chopped off one of my friends arms. Blood squirted onto the ground and he fell, screaming in agony. I tried to close my eyes to rid myself of the haunting image, but I knew it was too unsafe. I felt a stabbing pain of realization hit me.
If I die, my wife will have a fatherless child. Lila would be left alone in the world. She would cry, her crystalline tears gliding down her cheeks to the pages of my last letter to her.
No.
I cannot die. Whatever the reason, I cannot die. If not for my sake, for theirs.
I swung my bayonet to my left and caught a confederate soldier on the scalp, making him fall to the ground dead. Then, I toppled onto the blood stained ground. Turning back, I thrust my rifle upwards and pulled the trigger, hearing the deafening crack once more. A cannon ball hit the ground near me and splayed dirt into my eyes as the man I had just shot slumped forward onto my chest. I met his horrified eyes. I gagged as blood fell from his mouth onto my neck. I shoved the body off of me as I stood, shaken.
All at once, a memory hit me. [i]We stood on a hill, overlooking the valley that we had built our house before. It was beautiful. The evening sun was setting, turning the sky a vibrant orange and red. I glanced at my wife, who I held in my arms, and saw her brown hair dance in the light breeze. She smiled at me, her green eyes sparkling like stars. A tear of joy slipped from her right eye as she spoke.
“I'm pregnant,” she whispered. My mouth fell open and I laughed, lifted her into the air and spinning. She was so beautiful, so innocent and young[/i].
Suddenly, A sickening rip hit my ears and I gasped heavily. I began to shake, confused. What had just happened? What...I...I spun in a circle, trying to figure out what the sound had been. Then, I froze where I stood. Pain had begun to ripple up my chest and into my head. I dropped my bayonet, and fell to my knees, the grief hitting me. My pale hand shook as I felt the gunshot wound in my stomach. I felt the sticky, warm blood on my fingers. Why?
Why!
Lila, I love you.
My unborn child, I love you.
I love you so, so much.
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