🌻 rusger oneshots | countryhumans 🌻

12 | bang bang

🇩🇪: male
🇷🇺: male
angst
⚠️third reich, ww2, mentions of suicide, funs, gunshots, sad⚠️
song oneshot (bang bang - amilli and annenmaykantereit)
lets try smth new uwu
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i was five and he was six

we were young. that's what i remember.

we rode on horses made of sticks

i remember that place we always went to. we would always play in the meadow, surrounded by long grass, and neutral colored flowers. there used to be a marvelous landscape, revealing acres and acres of colorful view. but the war changed everything. now it was just ruins, everything a pile of ashes.

he wore black and i wore white

i remember how we would run away to here when our fathers did us wrong. we always had each other, we always were there to talk to one another. we talked about our dreams here, we talked about our fears here. all our memories were here.

he would always win the fight

bang bang

we used to play war here. we would find rocks and pretend that they were guns. the meadow had enough space for us to preyend it was a battlefield.

he shot me down

he always won our play fights.

bang bang

he would imitate the sound of a pistol.

i hit the ground

he was a sweet boy. everytime he pretended to shoot me, i would likewise pretend to get hit. i fell every time. and everytime, he held out his hand to help me right back up.

bang bang

vater used guns a lot. i heard them too often. somebody always had to die. i could never forget the sound of the trigger pulling. a bang bang to every person who disobeyed him. he threatened to do it to me too. one day he did it to himself.

that awful sound

but it made my friend happy when we would play. that's what mattered to me.

bang bang

until he became more than a friend.

my baby shot me down

until it was no longer just a game. it was reality.

seasons came and changed the time

i remember the pact vater made with his papa. while they were in meetings, discussing battle tactics and war topics, we were in the meadow.

when i grew up, i called him mine

that is, until the paper was ripped in half. our fathers no longer permitted our friendship. they were now enemies. we were now in war against them.

he would always laugh and say:

i never got to hear him laugh again.