Straight to the Grave
Hot lead pierces the bodies of men, young and old. Although many came from different backgrounds, they all faced a similar death sentence, one they hoped would fix their broken nation. Bodies of the dead piled up taking the place of the flowers that once grew.
The constant spilling of blood painted the dead grass a deep red. Insects, which varied in shapes and sizes, could be seen feasting on the bodies of the deceased. The sun hid its face behind the clouds, it refused to shine on such a horrific grave. The air was thick and smelled of death, yet all remained quiet.
The sky could no longer hold in its sorrow and the clouds started to cry. Slowly at first, then faster and more intense. The rain washed the blood, dirt and grime off of the soldiers. The beauty and uniqueness their faces once held became visible. Their eyes gazed into the depths of emptiness and their lips remained parted. The screams of terror stayed lost in the the throat, for the heart stopped long before the sound could reach the atmosphere. The last second of their lives stayed frozen on the face and the last thought remained a mystery.
Photographs of loved ones, which were scattered all around, became wet and slowly started to fade. The rain resembled tears as it ran the down the faces of smiling mothers and fathers, yet to hear the fate of their beloved child. The wind blew softly and hummed a slow and quiet song for the fallen.
YOU ARE READING
Straight to the Grave
Short StoryWill we truly ever know and come to understand the sacrifices made to ensure all the freedoms we possess? What do we owe the ones who's lives and limbs have been torn apart? How do we comfort the grieving mother, the lonely sibling or the sonless fa...
