posted on Jan, 28 2008 @ 04:04 PM
(Work in progress, let me know feedback.)
I don’t know how it all got started. I don’t know how I ended up here, well that’s a lie, I know how I ended up here, got here in a
government-sponsored plane ride and a long car ride. There was a point I had to run a little too, I guess not everything is for free and easy. I guess
what I don’t know is how exactly I came about the process of getting here, or at least why. I guess it’s because when I was a kid I’ve always
wanted to be a hero, but as I would later find out nothing in this situation could possibly make someone a hero, short of suicide. The bullets
whizzing by me need someone to kill and getting killed doesn’t make you a hero, I’ve seen no heroes, and I know no heroes, only heard of them,
they’re legends, myths even.
Times like these I wished I had every soldier’s god-send equipped, the Field Guide to a better survival, as we would come to call it. Of course
it’s an oxy-moron because as we all know in war, it’s never like it is in the text-books, but you tend to get a false sense of security when you
can simply troubleshoot when you have a problem or are in a jam or something along those lines. I just needed that warm fuzzy feeling inside of having
this invisible aura around me to get me through these tough times, because as luck would have it I’m out of ammunition and my knife, of all things,
broke. I guess I can always just hope the battle ends quick and fast and I won’t have to continue fighting, but the last words over the battle net
were “All units, fall back” so a victory isn’t really assured. I’ll tell you what though, this is a nice hovel, I really like it indeed.
It’s small, cozy, quaint, has a nice little futon in the middle, no TV, a small book shelf in the corner over there and only one doorway and a
boarded window. So I know the people trying to kill me can only come from one way.
Can’t say I enjoy the feeling of being left behind or forgotten, well I’m not really forgotten, I should clarify for you, my team has
actually been killed so they haven’t really left me behind, they’re just not breathing. My two-way radio is broken one-way so I can only listen to
what’s going on and it doesn’t sound good at all. I guess I’ve always wondered what life is like after death, you know the questions that
everyone has like, is there really a Heaven and Hell? And if so which one do I belong in? Or, will I be reincarnated as a goat? It’s a miserable
thought for sure, but hey, when you have a bullet in the liver you tend to be jealous of everyone who doesn’t.
My time here on Earth is limited so I’ll brief with what I have to say, it all started a long time ago, in a pasture far, far away. I was
getting out of my car to go into the local 7-11 for a Mountain-Dew and noticed two men outside the double glass-paned doors talking amongst each other
when they stopped and took a second to grill me and then continued on with their conversation. In any other situation I would be worried, but I had
nothing to be scared about, they were only poaching for their next victims. They had on digital ACU fatigues and berets with a patch colored in blue,
red and a green shield in the middle. They were recruiters and I was in my final year of high-school, I was prime meat.
[edit on 30-1-2008 by sanctum]