Just English Bull

Dulce Et Decorum Est Short Story

Part Two of Three.

When I reached Michael, he whimpered with his hand over his arm. I grabbed his wrist roughly and he yelped like a puppy that had been kicked. His hand was covered in his own blood, and his face was twisted in pain. "Is it bad?" He whispered gently. The bullet had gone right through his shoulder. There was a gaping hole where the bone and flesh should be. "No, you're fine. It just grazed your arm." I replied, "Of course it's bad dipstick!" I stood up and turned round and stood. "Medic, we need a medic over here!" I yelled out to the group, as Michael groans in pain, his face scrunched up with hurt. The medic sat the blinded and wounded down and told them not to move. Hunter followed with a map in his right hand, and a cigarette in his other, a small amount of smoke coming from the end that was alight with orange flame. "What happened to you kiddo, looks like you've been in a bit of a war." He said laughing at his own joke, I looked up at him with an unamused look on my face. "Give it a rest, Hunter. He doesn't need your stupid sarcasm."

He looked at me with a stern and cold look in his eyes and took a long drag of his cigarette. "There is nothing I can do, the wound is too big to fix up," He said, looking at Hunter and expecting a beating. "Im sorry, Jacob." He said while looking me dead in the eyes.

Hunter exhaled his smoke in my face. I waved my hand in an attempt of getting to the semi clearer air, one that smelt of flesh and gunpowder. "This was your fault. You were the one designated to look after him, and what did you end up doing? You got him killed. All because you weren't able to swallow that drink fast enough. I hope you're happy with the way you just doomed your brother." He spat at me, looking wild and crazy. I walked away knowing how much I had disappointed them all. I ran my hands through my knotted and filthy hair, as my thighs and bottom came in contact with an upturned crate that used to hold ammunition. The  tears flowed freely from me bloodshot eyes, there was no use trying to stop them now. The drink from earlier was rising in my throat, wanting to make a reappearance. The stinging was too much for my mouth to handle, as my stomach emptied all that it had left in there from last nights measly meal. Tinned beef doesn't look as appealing when it's on the ground on front of you. I close my stinging eyes and think of home.

The clear, cloudless blue skies.

The small whistling sound of the wind flowing through the trees.

The earthy smell of hard work and cut grass, bringing the warmth of the day, with the sun beaming down peacefully.

I tilt my head back and breath in. I open my eyes slowly, hoping to be met by the sun on my face, heating me up, filling me with energy, keeping me alive. But to my dismay, I am greeted by the grey darkness of rain clouds. I sigh and put my head down. I feel a hand place itself on my shoulder, and I look up to see James looking out into the distance. He looks down with an unshed tear, building up in his eyes. "Im sorry," He whispered gently as he squeezed my shoulder. My first kill was my brother. Accidental, but still my first kill. I put my palms over my eyes to cover up the tears. "Dont worry about it mate. Lets just help Hamish and Mark get rid of the bodies, okay? It will help take your mind off it all," He said, clapping my shoulder softly. I get up from the crate and follow on behind.