This is another fic that was originally a homework assignment for my history class. Well, I liked it so much that I wanted to share it with you guys! Here it is~
Battlefield in Mind
The thing that bothered me about this war was the reason for fighting. The Civil War is not only taking all able bodied men into the fray; it was also taking the lives of young, innocent men that had nothing to do with the ancestors of our past that brought the slaves to our country. The war is taking our future generation and separating it into two conflicting halves. Yes, the fighting might be for the Union and rebuilding it to its former glory, but the sacrifices and prices that came with the constant battle were much too high. At least for my likings.
With this thought in mind I went into the skirmish of the Gettysburg battle, flinching away from the many bullets that whizzed past a hairsbreadth from my head. No birds chirped here, the ambiance that surrounded me was of gun shots and war-cries. The fog that had permeated the air had long since faded. I lifted my gun and took aim and with a hard pressure of my index finger I sent the cylindrical piece of lead through the air to bury itself somewhere in another soldier's chest. I cried out as a bayonet was stabbed into my thigh and whirled around, a hand clamped on my hamstring to staunch the bleeding. The man that stabbed my leg lunged haphazardly at me, his grey uniform flapping in the wind. His gun was poised ready to stab; he must've been out of bullets for he wasn't riddling me with holes. I sidestepped the attack and took a hold of the gun, ramming it backwards into the confederate's forehead, the hard wood slamming into the softer bone. I pulled the gun from him, flipped it in my hands and when the man collapsed holding his raven haired head in pain I stabbed him through the heart. I had a second weapon to use, but at a price. My leg was wounded and I couldn't maneuver as I could before.
The weight of what I had done reigned heavily upon my heart. That was no well trained, battle seasoned warrior. He was an inexperienced amateur, fresh from the arms of his mother. He was most likely taken from his house and home to take on men that were war hardened savages. I shook the thought from my head. I couldn't have such distracting thoughts in my head if I wished to survive to live another day. There was no reason to want to, I thought as I plunged the sharpened point I held into another man's abdomen, survive that is. Not with this meaningless existence, alive only to fight. Blood spurted from the wound as the man's diaphragm flexed when he screamed. It coated my hands and face, trickling into my navy blue
uniform, till it was smeared by my movements. I whipped a hand through my hair to clear the blonde locks from my forehead, smearing blood along my forehead and hairline. My mind was pounding from all the mutinous thoughts running through my head, and my leg was pulsing painfully with the beat of my hammering heart. A bullet buried itself into my stomach. My chest felt like it was going to explode as I screamed. I dropped the murderous gun I had acquired and sank to my knees, gripping the wound in my stomach. I collapsed onto my front. I gritted my teeth only to gasp as a war horse leapt over the entire length of my body landing fearfully close to my feet so that I could feel the vibrations of its hooves' crushing contact with the ground. My breathing became ragged and my vision blurred. With one last painful sigh I let darkness overtake my senses.
"He's awake!"
"Get him some water and clean bandages, now!" I groggily opened my eyes, realizing the pain in my abdomen. I was alive.
"What happened?" I croaked after the water they had given me disappeared down my parched throat.
"We found you, half dead." The medic said as he helped me up to wrap me with new bandages. I groaned as the pain in my abdomen increased. "Damn it all. I mean what happened?" the medic looked taken aback and said; "What do you mean?" I took shallow breaths as he rewrapped my bandages. "Did we win, or did we lose?" I asked. "We lost." The medic replied. He finished wrapping the clean bandages, and left to get something and I didn't know or care what it was.
I looked down at my clean hands, knowing that underneath the scarred, pink skin resided the blood of the men I had killed. And the weight of knowing I would have to stain them even more crushed me into a heavy slumber once again.
I may or may not continue it. Depending on the feedback I get then I'll add more chapters.