There he goes. Walking down the long, windy dirt path to the final destination. He looks towards the sun, only source of light is this sad and dark world. He finds comfort in the sun then looks at the road a head. He closes his eyes and feels the wind brush against his sweaty body, he feels at peace, but knows that will soon end. He looks at the gun in his hands and adjusts some setting on it. He starts walking along the dirt path, not sure where it leads or if he'll be safe from them.
A few hours of walking goes by and the boy is feeling the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. He looks at the sky again, sweat rolling down his used to be relaxed face, now covered with grim and sweat. He hears a loud boom and gunshots. He is close to his objective. He walks out of the woods and onto the edge of the battle field. He looks around, taking in his surroundings before joining the fight. Loud banging of gunshots and explosive, the screams of the injured and dead, the cries of the soldiers for their fallen comrade echo through out the battle field.
He looks at the enemy, their pointed helmets made them look like spikes coming out of the ground. He looks at his allies, their bodies liter the beach. Guts and organs are everywhere, painting the water and sand red with their blood. "Oh god no... Henry..." The boy runs to the body of his fallen comrade.
"Henry! Wake up! Please! Don't die!" He cried as he shouted out his name. But there was nothing. Nothing at all, Henry was already dead, and there's no amount of medical help to heal the missing legs of the soldier in the battle field.
The boy cries, but that sadness turned into anger. How could they take him from me? From his wife and kids! From his family and friends! The boy, now filled with anger and hatred for the enemy, turned towards the enemy and runs at them. Three gunshots sounded and the boy falls over, his gun landing next to him. The boy tries to get up and fight, but his body stings and aches. His ears ring as he feels the life drain from his body and all over the blood stained sand beneath him.
"No! I can't die! Not yet!" He cries, but it's futile, he to injured and weak to fight. Soon, everything fades to black.
The boy heads beeping and voice all around him, his body still aches from the injuries he sustained, but he opens his eyes and looks around. He's in a hospital bed with nurses and doctors all around him, he can't feel his left arm or his right leg... in fact when he looked they weren't even there... He passes out again.
He wakes up, a few days later, to the sight of his family all around him, happy to he see he's alive. His wife breaks down crying and hugs the boy for dear life and he hugs her back, happy to be around his family.
"Thank the heavens your ok!" She cried.
The boy however, was not ok. He has the pictures of war, death and suffering imprinted on his memory. And Henry...
I hope he's in a better place then this one he thinks.