My back digs into the cold hard rock behind me. They must not find me, they must not defeat us. A branch cracks inches from my face. I peer around the rock and shoot. Voices scream in the background, but still I keep my finger locked on the trigger. I can see my troop follow quickly in my lead, shooting out into the unknown. An endless stream of bullets flies out from our hiding place within the forest. These people invaded us and for that they will pay. Finally I stop shooting and listen. I hear nothing but silence. The enemy has been defeated.




I rise slowly and quietly to my feet. I do not turn to see the remainders of our fight, the remainders of our enemy, afraid of what I might see, and quickly walk forward. Leaves crunch beneath my feet as sweat runs cold down my back. I am scared. More scared than I would ever admit to any of my comrades. Knowing every movement I make may lead to my death, I walk in silence towards the village that we must protect.


The sun peers through the trees only a few feet ahead, blinding us from this once familiar place. It’s as if our world has been erased as we walk out into the bright light. My eyes narrow and I can feel my forehead crease under the layers of dirt. It is too dangerous out here. The split second that we stop could be our death. I try to pry my eyes open in search of the enemy. I can not die today.


We enter the village cautiously, awaiting an attack, but nothing comes. The once busy roads where I played as a kid are now left abandoned. I can hear the cry of a baby off in the distance and wonder if the enemy can hear it too. But this is our country, they have no right to hear our children crying, they have no right to get pleasure out of our suffering, they have no right to be here.


An explosion goes off in the distance. Always too close in a time of war. Within seconds we’re on the ground in anticipation of a second blast. I think about who was killed in that bombing. I think of their wives and children standing on the doorstep, tears streaming down their faces as they are presented with the news. This cannot be me. It will not be me. I let out a sigh of relief as I realize that my life has not come to an end today.


There is no time to sit around and celebrate our survival; we are back on our feet and moving within seconds. We are walking slower this time, afraid of our home. Suddenly the solider in front of me goes down, dead. We are surrounded. I watch as two more of my comrades go down. Three lives ended in a matter of seconds. I look around the circle and stare at their faces. Staring at the enemy, the world seems to freeze, as I realize there may be no escape. I hear shots firing in all directions but I cannot lift my gun.


Our enemies have flaws, though, and have left the circle half closed. I silently point it out to my troop. Once again we are moving. Diving head first towards our death. We are out numbered with no chance of survival but still we make it into the tall grass fields behind them. My elbows dig into the hard ground as I crawl along the dirt on my stomach, weaving my way between the grass. I am breathing heavily when finally I stop, and look behind me. My troop has disappeared but the enemy has not followed. I may be alive but I am lost. Lost within a field of waving grass. Slowly I raise my head above the field, to find an exit.

That’s when I see him. A solider, standing alone in the field. His face is covered in dirt but still I can see his piercing brown eyes stare down on me. I wonder if I know him, he looks so familiar, but realize at once that he is the enemy, the one I must kill. I stand up strong preparing to shoot. His eyes are filled with the same fear that I know must be mirrored in mine. I begin to raise my gun and see him try to do the same but I cannot seem to lift it. The same gun that has become like an extra limb now seems to weigh me down, as if it is glued to my side. I wish for him to raise his gun so bad, for him to give me an excuse to raise mine. He seems so young standing there dressed in a uniform that seems to fall off of his slim shoulders, the gun he holds looks to be almost half his height. I wonder what I look like to him.

I hear the unforgettable sound of helicopter blades. If I stay the solider will kill me, but if I turn away I will be planting a massive X on my back within perfect view. Some unknown force makes me turn, the same strength that kept my gun down. My body tenses expecting a shot. I begin to run faster and faster, away from the helicopter. Once I hear it lift off the ground once again I turn to see the solider hanging on, starring down on me. He gives me a look that tells a thousand stories, and I know at once that I must never tell of the meeting. I let an “enemy” solider escape without even a scratch, and I know I would be labeled as a traitor if anyone found out, but I wouldn’t change that moment even if I had a chance because now I know. We are all just pieces in their game and I wonder if he knows that too.