Centuries

Brendon

    After hours of laying in bed, not being able to sleep I decide to go for a run to clear my mind. 

    I take a deep breath once outside as the icy breeze chills me to the bone. I begin to run my usual route towards the bridge that crosses Lake Michigan, through the the backstreets of Chicago. 

  I get to the bridge and stop so I can catch my breath, looking down the bridge and debating where halfway is. I take one long breath before running as fast as I can towards the middle. 

  I can feel the breath getting knocked out of my lungs but the burn makes me feel alive. It reminds me that I'm alive and that i would not be if a dear friend of mine hadn't taken that fatal bullet. His name was Peter, Peter Lewis Kingson Wentz. He had a son who had the same name as him so he would be remembered for generations. His name would go down in history. 

    I stop as my legs faulter, bending over as I gasp in breaths. My legs are shaking from exhaustion but I'm shaking all over. I can feel the lump in my throat as I remember that very moment like it was yesterday. 

   I ducked as a rain of bullets came from the enemy's trench, once it had gone quiet I poked my head up and shot a round of bullets. None replied so I looked at my battalion; we all nodded, having the sam idea. Except Peter.  He did not want to go because something felt wrong. The whole battle field was silent. 

   We went anyway. I stayed near the back with Peter because I didn't want to leave him and I felt bad for making him come up the top with us. That is when all hell broke loose. There was a crack of gunfire and all my friends were falling, left right and centre.

   "PETER!" I screamed as he jumped in front of me. He fell to the ground and I grabbed him, dragging him back to our trench. By this stage I did not care if I get hit, all I could care about was Peter. We tumbled into the muddy trench and I pulled him up, sort of on my lap. His breathing was coming out in short gasps as his uniform was turning red. 

  "I'm so sorry Pet-"

  "I did what I had to do," He says, gasping between every word, "Write to my family. Tell them I love them." 

   "Don't you say that, you're not going to die!" I shake my head as tears fall down my cheeks. They make a trail through the blood and mud splattered on my face.

   "You're a brave lad. Stay stro-" His eyes glaze over and he falls limp in my arms.

   "NO! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" I scream as pain and grief washes over me. He had a wife and son whereas I had no-one yet he sacrificed his life for mine. 

    I fall to the floor, my chest tight with pain as sobs rack through me. I curl up in a ball and sob, not caring if anyone is around. 

    "Mate, are you okay?" I hear someone ask quietly. 

    "Do I look okay!" I scream at him. 

     "Sorry, bad question. Look, it's getting light and I don't think you wanna stay here and get trodden on. How about you come with me and we'll sort you out, yeah?" He suggests and I nod, letting him help me to my feet.