Slowly Falling Apart

I've dedicated my time to show everyone the devastating and ever lasting effects a war can have on people. Even if these people are not real, the experiences are.

Seventeen.

That's how many came.

That's how many died.

Burned, shot, ripped apart, crushed.

All young, fighting soldiers.

I witnessed every single death right before my eyes.

Some would scream in pain until the end.

Others would not relinquish any sign of pain.

Those seventeen boys will be placed on the death list.

Seventeen families will learn of their loose.

I shudder as the last boy was wheeled away.

Vexen placed a hand on my shoulder.

I'm only nineteen.

I shouldn't be here, right near the war zone.

I could end up like any one of those seventeen boys, even if I am a medic.

My superior led me away from the room, coaxing me to tend to the other patients.

I was about to before the doors at the end of the hallway slammed open.

I saw his smudged face and his spiky sandy blond hair.

He wore his military issued uniform, and carried his gun.

A nurse named Xion wheeled a stretcher into the closest room, carting a man with shot blond hair.

His chest was reduced to a gaping hole, blood pouring everywhere.

"Demyx!" I cry.

I hate it when he comes here.

It scares me to see another young soldier enter the hospital.

Especially Demyx.

"Zexion! You gotta help him, he's my comrade!"

"But Demyx are you alright?"

"Please worry about him!"

I nod slowly, rushing into the room.

"Xion, please see if Demyx is hurt."

She leaves the room quickly.

I look at the young soldier checking for a pulse.

I froze when my fingers plunge into his neck.

His head was half way severed from his body, unnoticeable by his shirt.

Eighteen.

We've lost yet another one.

I notice the familiar shape of the dog tag, usually having the soldiers name engraved on its surface.

I reach into the cavern that once been a chest, soaking my hand with warm blood.

I pull it up so the light shined on it.

Luxord.

The soldiers name was Luxord.

I sit it back down and slowly left the room, regrettable heading to retrieve a death certificate.

"Zexion!" I flinch when Demyx approaches.

"Is he alright?"

I look down and spoke quietly, "I'm sorry. He was dead upon arrival."

I saw his body stiffen.

His gaze fell on my face, much to my dismay.

"I see." He mutters, running his hand through his hair.

"Nothing more I could do." I recite what I tell all the soldiers when they arrive with a fallen comrade.

Demyx pulled me into an embrace.

"I understand." He whispers.

I hate that when he comes, he does this to me.

I hate when he leaves, because I know I fear he'll never return.

I hate this war.

I hate death.

My emotions overwhelm me.

All I could do was bury my face into his uniform, smelling the dust and smoke.

"I have to get back Zexion," he continues in a soft whisper, "my commander will want to know."

He kissed my head gently, before walking out the door he had entered.

Just like that, he was gone again.

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-Soul Spirit-