Your Name Is On The List

Printed so the whole world could see was a list of names posted on the bulletin board at central hall. On the small piece of white paper, I stare at a name. It was mine. Allen Morrison.

I wished to erase it. To set it ablaze. To rip it off the paper. To white it out. To cease to exist, but all that was impossible.

They needed soldiers and I was chosen along with 499 others. We were to go out to the war front to face our enemy which were our relatives. Our country had split from our enemy's over a difference of politics that we did not care about. We all did not want to fight this pointless war but we had to.

We trained many months on how to kill effectively. Strange how murder was endorsed when at war but not at home. To me there was no difference, after all it was our relatives who we pointed our guns at.

With so many hours together, we talked and came up with a strange plan. One that the government would kill us over.

The day came when we were placed on the battlefield. Our plan had begun. Slowly, one by one, we dropped our weapons. Some of the enemies saw this and did the same. We had figured that since we were relatives, we would understand each other.

However we miscalculated the rage that was never addressed. Our side had killed people on their side and in a cruel manner at that. There were about a dozen who could not forget. Would not forget. They gunned us down before we could arm ourselves again.

As we laid there bleeding we wondered. How foolish we were to believe that they still loved us?

Back at home, our names had already been added to a list of dishonorable traitors and a new list, full of angry new soldiers had been posted on the bulletin board at central hall.

This time, your name is on the list.

(҂'_´)
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