So scary... That is something someone like me thought they'd never say. Something, they wouldn't need.

I fell, through the blue sky, through the smoke of other planes crashing. And I thought to myself, "What happened to being the hero? What happened to stopping the Germans and their mass raid on Europe?"

My bomber jacket flew around me, the light material heating up my body as the harsh air threw itself against me... not trying to catch me, but trying to let the pain come slower... Harder.

World War Two was almost over, almost, but not completely.

The other countries knew I was going to grow up to be a world power... but not in such a short time. The echoes of my people dying for their beliefs, the echo of mankind ringing in my bones. I had failed them... I had failed myself.

Wind, you think it feels good against your skin. You assume it would at lest slow you down from impending doom... It does. But not in the good way it feels on the ground. When you are calm.

The sky looked a harsh grey as I fell through the smoke, as I fell towards the ocean. All the while, the air making death seem inevitable. Making it seem... Like all hope was lost.

Though such thoughts raced through my mind, I felt... Soothed... Entranced, even.

Finally seeing the blue of what I thought to be the ocean, I thought of such calmer ways of dying. Just falling asleep, and going peacefully seemed better. Though, I chose this fate... I knew, in some way, that I would go. Maybe not peacefully, But I would go.

Hitting the surface of the deep blue water, I closed one eye. On impact, my glasses had shattered into small pieces. My soul, however, was still intact with a fighting spirit.

Sunlight above me, I made no move to save myself.

For you see... I felt calm in this watery grave.