A/N - Just a reminder that this whole story is the brainchild of my friend @MVCostales, he actually shared his whole idea with me and I agreed to help, with me putting my own elements to it and even helping him make the upcoming plot, which is why I am co-writer. For my info, check out the synopsis of this story.
With all that said, enjoy reading!
_________
Where does one draw the line in war? When does one put down their guns and stop fighting? After a peace deal is scratched up by men in high places or after the toppling of another government? How many lives were lost during this bloody hell?
These questions, I do not know the answer to. Countless lives were lost. What's done is done, but one cannot move on from the hell they witnessed without addressing it.
"Karlos! Karlos!" they called, from the day I was born to high school. It was an innocent calling, maybe one to play or to eat, but this war tore me apart; one such innocent call turned into one so gruelling and so painful.
To kill a man and watch the life drain out of their eyes, one of the same nationality, race, maybe personality, possibly a man I could've been friends with. Only one word, Draining.
I wish I could move on from it but I can't. Comrades and enemies killed left right and centre. Each with a family waiting for them at home, praying for them to come back; praying that one day a happy family can unite. Shattered hearts and crying are what come out of this.
Coming out of this war, I feel grateful that I didn't die like the rest did. It sounds selfish but I'm just so eternally grateful that I made it out alive...and yet so guilty that I made it out alive. Why couldn't it be someone else here right now? Why couldn't it be Miguel or Santos alive, their airy laughs cheering up this bleak atmosphere? Why were their lives taken and not mine? Why were Alpha Charlie Company killed and not me? Why am I the survivor? Why did I—against all the odds—make it out of this hellhole...just to get pushed into a deeper one?
The so-called "Survivor's Guilt" is killing my soul day in and day out.
In war, one picks up a rifle, gets an objective and kills whoever gets in the way. It's as simple as that. Yet why am I so mentally and physically damaged, so scarred?
I miss my old life, the life where all I worried about was getting into a good college and keeping in touch with my friends. I miss relaxing in the sun, chatting and eating really good food as Alex tried to steal them from me. I miss sitting on the couch as I talked to my friends and watched videos on my phone. I miss taking care of my sister, hanging out with my family, and reading the tons of books I have in my room.
...why did this all have to change?
YOU ARE READING
At What Cost?
ActionA boy fresh out of high school is dragged into a bloody civil war. He sees the bloody hell that he's trapped in and tries to figure out which side to help. As he navigates his new brutal life, he gets hit with bombs, gunfire and many other close br...
