I run past the bloody bodies. Some are those of the living, others of the dead. I even jump over the limbs that have been blown off. I help the men that are still part of the living, even though I know most will die within the next minute. There isn't much I can do for any of them, but it is my duty.
I am just a young girl at the ripe age of 14. Much too young to see such a spectacle. I left my mother and five younger siblings at home. It was not my choise to leave them. I wanted to stay.
Mother said that it was my duty to help. She said I was old enough to help in times of war. So I set out with my father and fiance to fight for freedom. My family is having hard times. I offered to sell my hourse so they would have money.
My mother refused it. She is a stubborn woman. Right now that is not a good thing, even though it has come in handy in the past. She will think of something though. She always does, no matter what the situation.
I continue hopping around bodies and helping the men to get to a hospital. I take a brief moment to see where my fiance and father are. My father is in the back with my fiance in toll. Unfortunately, I know they will not stay so far back. They want to be heroes like the ones who have received their medals and recognition.
I pray, still, to my God that they will remain safe and unharmed. I begin to walk again. My eyes see nothing but the pain and agony of a field of people dead or injured. I can no longer handle it. I dart behind a hill to collect myself.
I cry heavily for a few minutes. Soon, my sobs silence, my body stops trembling, and I believe I am ready to continue. I do not stand quickly. Instead i take my time. Another nurse calls for me.
I peer out from behind the hill. i see the brunette nurse. I jump up and begin to run towards her. As I run, I hear my fiance call out to me. He tells me to watch out and begins to run towards me.
He is too late. He cannot push me out of the way. I am also too slow. I cannot dodge the oncoming bullet. It hits me.
I slump to the ground as I feel my fiance impact with me. I feel the blood explode from my chest and make a huge puddle on my blouse. I sense someone next to me. With some difficulty and effort, I move my head to see who or what it is. It is my fiance.
Blood flows from his chest in an identical spot to my wound. He was already dead. I whispered that I'd always love him. I gripped his hand as I was pulled to my death's abyss. I was glad I didn't have to die alone, I'd be with my love for the rest of eternity.
I hoped, as I died, that my family would not grieve too much, but now I knew that it could not be the same. My father died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. I wish I would've been alive to save him.

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