Endings

Fateful shot

It's funny, feeling the bullets rip through your body. You expect hot, piercing pain. I suppose that's what happens when you're going to survive, I wouldn't know too well. The first one ripped my heart into shreds, I was dead long before I hit the ground. I just remember the bullet wounds feeling like ice as I fell.

Name is Johnathan Tucker, Lance Corperal of the US Army. DOB June 28th, 1980. DOD July 4th, 2013. A damn irony that is. Died on Independence Day, off fighting for the same ideal in another country. Should've been eating watermellon with my kid. That's the kind of thing that actually should matter. Not death and destruction on grand scales.

I live now in the life stream of the planet, I'm part of everything. And with the life of the planet, I weep for the loss of life, great and small. I finally see the consequences of everything I did. No bullet didn't affect someone somewhere. No kill. I see the muslim women I thought I was protecting abroad, weeping for dead husbands who only fought because they had to. I feel their tears hit the ground and shiver as the salty raidrops bombarding me. Smell the stench of dispair, pain....

And then I'm the grass and the tiny living things in the ground, crushed underfoot by the war machines, murdered in the line of duty of others and in turn suffering the life of everyone as the life force of the planet is weakened. Life cannot continue with war.

Life is cruel, showing me my baby girl growing up without her father. It shows me everything, her present, every moment of the past I missed, every chance to be with her I couldn't take, and her future I'll never be around to see. She grows up to be an astronaught, can you belive it? My baby girl up in space, furthering humanity, while her father rots in the ground. I want nothing more than to be there for her, to wrap her in my arms when she gets back and tell her 'welcome home' like she never will be able to tell me. Welcome home. Sweet words we'll never share.