How Things Change

"Retreat! Retreat!" Will yells and dives as our enemies approach but I stand my ground. They are not going to win this.

My finger presses on the trigger with a light touch, it not being hard enough to move, my eyes fixed on the target as he turns his head and spots me.

I'm ready to fire when I get tackled to the ground, barely dodging the bullet.

"Are you crazy? You would have died!" Will glares down at me and slaps his hand against my mouth to keep me from talking when the rustling of tall grass gets louder.

"Dinner time!" A familiar voice yells from a distance and we all groan. Will stands, pulling me up with him by my hand and I brush the dirt off of my shirt.

All four of us run towards my house where my mother is waiting for us at the back door. Her long blonde hair waves with the wind, and her pink apron too.

Her soft hand ruffles through my messy hair as she shakes her head, the soft smile never leaving her face. "I thought I told you to not get all messy."

"I'm sorry, mum, " I look down at my clothes, coated in mud and sand.

"Your dinner's on the table, go and eat with your friends." She pulls out a cigarette and brings it to her lips.

I smile and run in the dining room to see my friends already tucking into their food.

I sit in between Harry and John. The old television crackles in the living room and the wind chimes tinkle from outside.

After we finish eating the pie, they say their goodbyes and leave to go home.

That memory plays again and again in my head. It's the only thing that keeps me sane here.

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think of my mum. I don't know how she did it, look after me, a troubled and clueless kid, as a single mother and still smile every day. My dad died to save his friends in the war, the only thing I wish to do when the time comes. I've been saved so many times by my friends, it's the least I could do.

The four of us are currently surrounding the watchtower after Harry heard something from the treeline. Our guns are aimed and our guards are up.

The crunch of a trick catches my attention and I snap around to that direction. A pair of eyes peek out from behind a tree.

A bullet flies past my ear and I shoot back, missing.

More people emerge from the treeline and it doesn't take long for me to figure out we're outnumbered. By a lot.

"Retreat! Retreat!" Will yells and dives as our enemies approach but I stand my ground. They're not going to win this.

I fire at the armed men but it's no use. This isn't a game. These are real guns. And I'm going to die.

I'm ready to fire when I feel a sharp pain in my leg. Then again in my abdomen. Will doesn't tackle me and scold me for not running because it's impossible.

I fall down, my eyes close and the last thing that goes through my mind is that memory. I should have learned.