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by Blue
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · War · #2007740
She has a choice, shoot an innocent boy or watch her sister die.
         I breathed deep and closed my eyes. I tried to bury everything deep in my mind. Every memory of happiness and laughter, of sadness and pain, all locked deep where they could no longer torment me. At least I tried to. The harder I pushed them away the faster they came, flowing behind my closed eyes like water moving downhill. I saw her face over and over again. I saw her smiling with her face turned to the sun. I saw her laughing as we rolled down grassy hills and flew kites in summer, jumped I leaves in fall, built snowmen in winter. I saw her picking flowers in the spring. She always did that in the spring. Her favorites were the violets that she would put in the glass vase on the windowsill.
         Tears began to roll down my cheeks as silent as the winter nights when would sit by the fire ad drink hot chocolate. Even though the memories of happiness had already Broken my heart the ones of pain that followed only made it worse. I saw little things liked scraped knees and band aids. I saw broke bones and cut fingers. Tears streamed harder down my face but it wouldn't stop. It kept going showing everything that I had ever been through with her.
747 words
         By the time the last memory showed itself I was shaking. I saw myself as we were only a couple of weeks ago when this whole god awful mess had started. I saw myself sitting with her in that dank little cell holding her and whispering into her ear that everything would be alright. It would be alright. It would be all right. I was shaking harder and tears were falling faster, faster, faster. They carved a wet trail across my cheeks. It was him or her. Him or her I kept telling myself. I knew there wasn't much choice, I didn't have a choice but at the same time I couldn't help thinking about all the things this boy had been through, all the people who loved him, all of them that would miss him.
         I slowly raised the gun and pointed it at him. I shook so hard that I didn't think I would be accurate even if I did shoot. Just as my finger brushed the trigger the door opened and in she walked behind a guard. He nodded his head at me and I turned myself back to the boy. I shouldn't have looked at him but in the last second I found his eyes and he was… he was so scare. I closed my eyes and took another breath. Please god, please give me the nerve to do this. There was no easy way out, only a hard way, and a harder way. I was about to choose the harder. I put down the gun and slowly turned around with my eyes still closed. Then, quickly as I could I lifted the gun and fired. The guards fell one by one, all five of them in the room lay on the ground. I didn't stop to think about their families, I wouldn't be able to do what I had to if I did.
         I grabbed the guns off of them, careful not to touch the warm bodies of the men I had just killed. I walked over to the boy and bent to the floor. And found his feet we’re not changed. I looked up.
         “What room?” I asked him.
         “32,” he said.
         I stood up and ran out after having grabbed the set of keys on one of the men. We ran through the halls. I shot everyone who came in our way until we made it to the room. I unlocked the door and the boy ran inside to grab a little boy who couldn't have been more than three years old. Again we ran. I lead them through the doors, still shooting, and under a whole in the fence I had found before. We ran and ran and ran until I collapsed on the ground. I curled up into a little ball and cried. Great gasping sobs came from me and left me laying there empty. With enough nerve I could do anything, but that didn't mean I wanted too. And the worst part of right now lying on the ground is the fact swimming through my mind that I’m going to have to get up tomorrow and find it again.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2007740-Hard-and-Harder