Death of a Soldier
I wrote this last night, I was kinda tired, but I liked the idea. Its kinda morbid, and i plan on developing it into a novella.
The Death of a Soldier
The life of a soldier, a life that took 21 years of love to raise and let prosper, has come to an end. A life that started as a baby, grew into a toddler, into an innocent child, to a rebellious teenager, to a young man trying to pay for an education his single mother could not provide for him, and finally to dieing in a deserted house where no one cares who he is or what has happened to him.
Slowly the blood diffuses into the now-soggy dirt that comprises the floor, the first moisture it has had in months. Although it is 95 degrees outside, the soldier is as cold as he has ever been. His friends are not there to comfort him, and someone he has never met or heard of has done the last act of cruelty he will ever witness.
The intense pain in the dark recesses of his punctured stomach are crawling up into his chest and seeping into his groin. All he can think about is his Wife and newborn son, who he will never know. The pictures in his mind flash by, like a final show in his brain of the happiest moments of his short lived life.
As he lies there, the truth of his demise apparent, he feels the hard floor of the apartment of an Israeli family, long departed. Hanging on the wall, he sees a picture of Jesus Christ being crucified, tortured and left to die a long, painful death for no reason, calling out to his father. He feels closer to the lord than he ever has before.
He feels like he wants to vomit, but knows there is nothing left in his stomach but blood. He stares at the ceiling for what seems like hours, trying to remember his wife and family, but his mind draws a blank. He feels light headed and sleepy, but knows he has to stay awake. He refuses to miss his last moments.
The pain in his stomach subsides, but the pain in his chest rages on. He has lost feeling in his arms and legs, which now look pale and dead. The smell of blood fills his nostrils with a smell of moist pain. He canâ€™t remember whatâ€™s happened.
He vaguely recalls a loud series of bangs, and an intense burst of pain, and he falls to the floor. Coming to the realization that he has been shot, he looks around. Then, barely able to lift his head, he sees him. On the floor is a crumpled heap in a large pool of dark, thick blood. It was wearing a U.S. army uniform. The eyes of lieutenant Danby are staring in to his soul, but the eyes have no life left in them.
He begins to become calm, relaxed. He no longer feels the intense pain from the gaping and bloody hole in his abdomen. Slowly, he begins to fade into the dark abyss. It is painless, but heâ€™s left disappointed; so many opportunities missed, and people left to mourn. Quietly, in that small, deserted house in Jerusalem, he closes his eyes, never to reopen them.