Drip. Rain smacked against the lanky branches of the trees. Mud encased his boots as he walked through the woods, his heart pounding in time with the rain. He held the gun ready in his trembling hands, watching for any sign of movement, any threat.
Drip. Tears fell from his eyes as he read over the letter, his girl's perfume reminding him of home. Sobs escaped his chest as he held her picture close, wishing to once again hold her in his arms, to tell her he loved her.
Drip. Blood trickles down his head as he flees into the woods, ignoring the commands from his officers. Pebbles fly out from beneath him as he skids to a stop, realizing that he holds no gun in his hands. Sprinting back to where he came from he finds them all, unmoving, dead.
Drip. A strong drink makes his mind fuzz, making everything around him seem like a dream. Mumbles come from his mouth as he asks for another, and another, downing them as if nothing else matters. He doesn't want to know. He no longer wants to fight. He doesn't want to remember.
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