The snow began to fall. It had weighed the clouds down, and only now, did it begin to carpet the earth. The big flakes quickly covered the grass. Before long, rocks were no more than slight rises in the blanket of snow. A few patches had no snow. These were the places where bodies laid, bodies that would never move again, bodies that would be covered with snow soon. A few of the bodies had open eyes. Most of the ones with open eyes saw nothing from their dead depths. One body however, slowly blinked. Unable to move, the body accepted the sharp pain that shot through its every limb. How much longer would it last? Would it last until help came? Was help coming? The snow muffled any sounds, if there were any. Every breath hurt. Every blink burned. Every snowflake, no matter how small, crushed the body. Would the body move again? Would it make it through this torture. The body tried to cry for help, whimper in pain, anything, but nothing happened. The body's brain began to throb. Was it really over? Knives shot at the eyes from behind. The body was dying. The only question was how long. A cry came through the falling snow. Help! Help was on its way! The body wanted to shout, to let the help know that it was still alive, alive amongst many others that were dead now. The sound of feet crunching in the snow came closer to the body. It could feel the vibrations of the footsteps. Every minute vibration jarred its bones together. A searing fire rushing through the joints. Hands wrapped around the body, warm hands that burned the skin. Blisters appeared, but the hands held firm. The body continued to look straight up because it was the only option. The hands that helped hurt the body, but only temporarily. Soon, the body would hurt no more. Soon it could run and be happy again. It could be with friends. The body's mind gave over to hope, and the hope cleared away some of the pain. The body went numb, finally the pain was going away. The body's vision slowly shrank, until only a slit was left. Finally, sleep. A cry went out from above the body, but for a change, it did not hurt the body's ears, a pleasant surprise. The body was laid upon a soft bed. The bed encompassed the body, urging it to rest. Happily, the body obliged. The body felt its breath slow. It felt the rhythm in its chest slow down. Suddenly, the body knew. This wasn't sleep; this wasn't getting better. This was death at it sweetest. The body's eyes snapped open. It couldn't die! It didn't want to! It looked at the body that stood over the soft bed. The red hair covered the woman's face. The body longed to reach out and embrace the woman who stood above him, to cling to her like it never had before.

"Mum!" the body said quietly. The woman who stood above the bed looked at the body with tearful eyes. The body saw the brown eyes, but too late. The body's eyes closed, the image of the brown eyes imprinted on its brain forevermore. The brown eyes that longed for the body to say their name instead of what it had said. Brown eyes that filled with tears and spilled over as the boy cried for who every soldier cries for in the end. The body fell into a softness that would never end, a softness where pain didn't exist. The body could not open its eyes, and it could not breathe. Slowly, the body felt the rhythm in its chest stop. The boy who lived was dead.