Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I see his cheek blown off by a bullet. I drop my riffle and snatch him up. The battle rages on behind us as I run with him on my shoulder. He keeps screaming; “take me home” I run for all I am worth. I get hit in the side. I keep running. He yells,”take me home” I have known him from boot camp. He has no home. He was ordered to join or go to jail. No parents. No home. I run. He is heavy. I run. We make it to a rocky clearing. My boots slip and slid but still I run. The fire fight goes on behind us. I run. He yells; “take me home” I fall. My side is open. I reach down and find my own blood and gore. He whispers; “take me home” Only then do I realize, he wasn't talking to me.