The sound of gun fire breaks through the silence that was once there, accompanied by the cries of fallen soldiers as they fall to the ground dead, staring off into nothing. There is no time to grieve their loss, only time to march on and lead the attack upon the British. War is far from what I had wanted, but lives are fragile things and this is the result of not one, but two souls that were shattered due to time's cruel ways. I lead the attack with an iron fist, hiding behind a mask that has formed because of my own stupidity. The last thing I would have ever wanted to happen was to face the cruel reality that I would be forced to kill my own brother with my own two hands. But yet here I stand, gun pointed at the man who has taken care of me year after year when no one else would. Without his support and guidance I would have never survived this bitter world we now live in.

All I can do now is watch as he falls to his knees in front of me, breaking down and asking me, "What did I ever do to make you hate me so? I loved you and cared for you..and then you go and betray me. Why? Why?" My index finger shakily moves to the trigger, 'I can't kill him..I can't kill this man. But I have to..' I can't decide between right and wrong. Emotions, thoughts, and memories take over my brain, rendering it useless as I look at the man before me for what could be the last time and say, "I never grew to hate you, Arthur. I grew to hate what you have become.." At that I pull the trigger, watching the red stain his uniform as he fell to the cold, hard ground, almost dead. I, Alfred F. Jones have just shot and possibly killed Arthur Kirkland. The only one willing to put up with me, to take care of me, to feel anything towards me other than hate. My gun falls out of my hands, the only sound that can be heard within the depths of the silence that had once again been formed. Although I hear nothing, not being able to wrap my head around the concept that I just shot him. The adrenaline that I had been previously running off of runs dry, and I too collapse, my body having gone numb.

I awake with a start, panting heavily as if I had been running a marathon. This same nightmare had been reoccurring ever since the war had ended and there's nothing I can do but act as though it had never happened and move on with life. But occasionally on nights like this, the emotions are too overwhelming and I can't bear to pretend as though everything is normal when it clearly isn't. So I give up and stoop to the false comforts of alcohol, wondering to myself if this is why Arthur drinks constantly. Once at the bottom of a few bottles, there's nothing left to do but crawl back to bed and silently cry until sleep takes me.

I wake once more, although this time to the sound of my alarm clock. I slowly get up and approach the mirror in my bathroom, wiping away tear stains and faking a smile. This is my daily routine, rebuilding the mask I had used so long ago, and hiding my true emotions behind it. This mask I wear is the face everyone knows and recognizes, and I honestly hate that fact. I hate acting like an idiot when all I want to do is shut out the world and isolate myself in the horrors buried within the depths of my mind. But that isn't a possibility. So I get dressed and throw out the empty bottles, walking to the World Conference and mentally preparing myself for what has now become my own personal hell. I force myself to sit down and look into those same eyes that I thought I would never see again, to look at and interact with someone I tried to kill for stupid reasons. At the end of the day I go home and remove my fake features, letting my true self show and making sure that this side of me never sees the light of day. I sit down on the couch and just stare out the window, watching the rain run down the window as new tears form. This is my everyday life, full of lies and deception, and one I'm ashamed to admit as my own. Everyday I sit and wonder what life could have been like if I hadn't let my regretful thoughts turn into my now regretful actions..this is one thing I shall never know, all because of that fateful day...