I should really update my other stories instead of starting new ones... This one is interesting, I promise... hehe, so please review! Many thanks!
prologue
Gun shots echoed through the still night air. Bombs explosions raided the distance. We huddled close to each other. We were all shaking, shivering with the cold as cold sweat trickled down our foreheads. I bit hard on my lips to stop myself from screaming. We had been hiding in this underground shelter, tired, cold and starving. Not an adult could be found. I decided to take a gamble. Looking at the distraught, frail looking young children in the shelter, I felt that I had to do something. I just wasn't like me to sit there and do nothing. I could not watch my friends die one by one like this. I clenched my fists and stood up, walking towards the exit. I was 14 then.
"What are you doing?" A voice rang out. I glanced backwards. A blonde girl stared hard into my eyes. It bore deep into me, and I felt as if I was getting eaten up by her gaze. I wanted to get food. We desperately needed food supplies. The younger children are falling ill, one by one. She raised her eyebrows, "and risk getting killed?" I nodded. She seemed to space out a little as she nodded, patting the head of a little boy using her lap as a pillow. It just broke me to see everyone in such a pitiful state, when months ago, we were just living normal lives of comfort and happiness.
I bit my lower lip and climbed out of the shelter, exposing myself to the open surroundings. The air smelt of burning ash as I caught sight of empty bullet shells littered on the ground. Suddenly, and unknown force fell, clinging onto me. I flashed of red clouded my eyes. When it cleared, I caught sight of a bloody limb clutching onto me. Two bright blue pupils dug into mine. I freaked out. It dawned on me. My foster father had died.
Scenes of the past flashed past my eyes. My vision blurred. As the body slipped off my body and into my arms, I cried. Tears formed a steady stream down my cheeks as I carried him back into the shelter. My heart was aching; not even food and water could cure me of my grief for the loss of him. I gripped hard on my rifle and forced myself to stand up. I was determined. Determined to avenge my loved ones.
I walked towards the ruins. Filled with hatred and anger, I advanced towards it, ready to kill the first person I saw. I refused to take any sides. I wanted the war to end; I wanted life to return back to how it was. I didn't want the children to suffer anymore. So I decided, to kill people from both side, to make them suffer casualties, unable to fight anymore. Then we would have peace. I bit my lower lip.
Just then, a young girl, around the age of seven, crept out. I raised the rifle and aimed it at her head. My finger tightened around the trigger. But she didn't hide from me. Instead, she walked toward me and smiled. I swerved my hand towards the right and squeezed the trigger tight, the bullet missing the girl by inches. I couldn't bring myself to kill her. She resembled too much like my sister, when she was young. I put down the rifle and sighed, signaling for her to run. She opened her eyes wide, staring at me as if I was crazy. I was, I assumed, letting go of a little girl, potentially a spy from one of the two parties at war.
After a moment, she turned and ran, just as I told her to. That was the very last time I saw her.
I quickly searched the ruins for food. In a little corner, I saw, were little packets of food stashed away, hidden below piles of hay. I dug in and picked them up, ready to leave when I sensed a huge object looming behind me. I tightened my fingers around the neck of my rifle, ready to swing it at the object behind me.