Steven rushed with the rest of his team up to a wooden door that seemed from ancient times. He had expected this country to be just slightly more civilized and advanced, especially with all the stories he had heard from the others, and from the news. They were a crafty bunch, but it seemed that their culture had yet to go beyond that of the dark ages. A bullet ricocheting off the wall next to his face snapped him to attention as he swung his rifle out in a flat arc, looking for rooftop snipers. To any un-mounted soldier, a Juba was probably the worst thing they could face. Steven looked over to his team leader and locked eyes with him for a moment. He made a series of hand gestures, and then finally pointed to the door. Steven nodded as the team leader counted backwards from three with his fingers. Three, two, one…Steven moved in front of the door, loaded a shock round into his grenade launcher that was attached to his rifle, then launched it against the door. The round flattened almost instantly when it was fired, then struck the door like a full bodied tackle. The door broke easily under the force and the team leader ran in, followed by Steven, then the rest of the team followed suit. They had rifles pointed at the individuals standing in the room as they looked around, frightened and confused. The singular woman in the room to whom Steven assumed was the only adult in there, knelt on the floor and had the children huddle around her, protecting them. These were the raids that was avoided when at all possible. These were the raids that each member of the team hated.

"Great way to make a first impression, right Steven?"

Steven allowed himself a small smile as he swept the room with his eyes, checking for anything obvious. It was a small room but adequate. The walls were still made of sandstone plaster; the desks were worn and chipped. The chalk board was broken in several places and he could tell that this was not the first time these children have been witnessed to death, as there was still blood and bullet holes on the blackboard. Searching around he found nothing that stood out at him.

"Daniels, Masowuski, I want you two to pull guard on the door. Emily, Smith, and Guerra, clear the building. Check your blind spots and search everything. Mahmood, I need you to translate for me."

The team leader, Shoemaker, had already slung his weapon to the side as he pulled out a pad and pen. He motioned for the translator to come up beside him and he started speaking to the frightened children and seemingly more frightening teacher. Daniels and Steven moved towards the door, but he had kept his eye on the children. He heard stories about how the enemy would use them as walking bombs, slipping past our defenses by our nature to think children were harmless. Regardless, e always kept one eye on the door, and one eye on the children and his team leader. They were talking in a low tone of voice so he couldn't hear very well. After about a half an hour, the trio came back from the back rooms. Emily gave the hand signal for the all clear, and they all relaxed a bit more. The children were let to wander now, some returning to their desks and trying to learn despite the distraction, but there were others. Others like Maria. She was a small girl, not more than eight years old and knew how to speak English. She must have been smart. She said that her parents died in a fire that was caused by an explosion about a year ago. Steven had always wanted to become a teacher himself, children holding a special place in his heart. He had hoisted Maria onto his hip, which was a hard feat considering all the equipment he was wearing, but she had positioned herself comfortably. He had given her a sucker that he had saved for occasions such as this. He hated raiding schools, but loved to be able to teach the children a few magic tricks, simple ones like the disappearing quarter trick, but to them it was impressive none the less. It had been a quiet hour as the teacher and the team leader were discussing what they could do for each other. The teacher knew of several enemy targets that operated around the school and the team leader had the authorization to sign a check for school supplies, medical supplies, and other various things schools that are virtually fundless would need. Steven talked with Maria for a while when she motioned him towards the window.

"I live there…" she pointed to a building, half destroyed by war. At that moment he felt angered. Why are children forced to live like this? His thoughts were nothing less of crusadic, but never the less that was how he felt. She looked at him and smiled.

"You good friend. I like you."

Steven blushed as he lipped 'I'm going to kill you if you tell anyone!' to his buddies as they laughed and made mocking ooh's, and aww's. That was when the silence was shattered. His perfect moment was completely destroyed by that loud crack. That oh so familiar sound of a bullet leaving its barrel. He had let his guard down, and for that he would pay a price. The Juba would make sure of that. Maria's eyes went from pleasance to terror, from calm to worry. Her face shed only a single tear before her lips turned pale and her grip on his armor loosened. Steven dove on to the floor as the children all ran into the back room with the teacher. His world became silent as he felt the spatter of blood on his face. The angle was perfect, it was nearly impossible from any angle outside the window but somehow it was done. A singular bullet that escaped from a Dragnough sniper rifle, a bullet that was originally meant for him, had struck her in the chest. She didn't even cry in pain, or say a word only died knowing that her time in this world was already short. Steven dropped Maria as he spun around, loading a high explosive grenade round into his launcher. He knew exactly where he was, he saw the glint of the metal in the sunlight as it reflected in her eye. His rage was uncontrollable now as the world seemed to crawl at a snails pace. His eyes became bloodshot and his teeth clenched so tightly that he chipped his front incisor. He could see the sniper reloading his t-bolt rifle with another round from the window of that war torn building. It was the one place he didn't check but knew it was there. He raised his rifle as a second bullet roared into the window and into his chest plate. It did little to help as he could feel the warm blood flow down his uniform. He couldn't feel the pain; the anguish from losing one of his new found friends had entered him into a berserker's frenzy. He took aim through the sights and pulled the trigger on his launcher. A silent 'pift' escaped the barrel and he watched the grenade land just as perfectly into the building Maria had pointed out. He knew that threat was over. Outside the civilian populaces were running away, militias were arming themselves and running to their own homes to protect their families, the children were screaming and the adults were panicking. Steven lowered his rifle and looked at the floor. It may have been the bullet in his stomach, or it was heartache from bonding with a new friend, but he suddenly felt weak as he stared in her eyes. Her cold lifeless brown eyes, pale lips and dirty clothing now covered in blood as her chest was blown out for the world to see how big a heart she had. She had gripped a small wildflower in her hand, and even in death she held on tight. He could hear his team mates screaming to take cover. He couldn't hear, he couldn't feel, he couldn't even think. He only stared into the girls lifeless eyes as she stare back up at him, her blood soaking into his tan combat boots. As if to join her, he felt his legs give out beneath him, crashing into the ground beside her. The bullet wound in his stomach was taking its effect now. His vision blurred as he reached out and grabbed the flower from the girl's hand.

Steven shot up from his bed, furiously grabbing his midsection as the sweat dripped form every pore of his body. His fingers traced over the large scar just above his bellybutton. It was just a dream. He ran his hand over his face as he crawled out of bed, arousing his once sleeping wife.

"Honey? What's the matter?"

Steven didn't even pay any attention. He rushed out of the bedroom and out into the hallway, his world spinning as he fought to keep the bile from his throat from escaping. Stumbling into the kitchen, he frantically pulled a glass from the cupboard and poured a glass of whisky, or so he thought. He had drank the last of it the other night. He tossed the empty bottle on the ground and gripped his head with both hands listening to the glass shatter on the floor. It was too strong. His throat seemed to close and his eyes were watering. He needed release. He fumbled with a pack of cigarettes trying to pull one out with his shaking hands in order to light it. He couldn't get his hands to work well enough to light the lighter. He slammed the lighter on the counter top and bent over it, propping himself up with one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. He couldn't help it anymore. A shrill squeak escaped from his lips. Another started to fly out when the tears started rolling from his eyes.

"Oh god! Honey are you alright? What's wrong?!"

Nina had run into the kitchen, being sure to avoid the broken glass on the floor. She gripped his shoulders as he started choking. He was a murderer. A killer, nothing could escape this realization. No matter how hard he fought to suppress this he knew deep down that it was him that should have been hit. He knew deep down that it should have been him to fall to the ground, not her. He overlooked it and violated his promise to her to keep her safe. He was a liar, and a murderer. Steven gripped his face and started sobbing. It was all too much, far too much for him to even cope with. He could hear the voices in his head, chanting, condemning him to a hell of his own making.

'Murderer, killer, defiler, and sinner!'

Over and over like a choir of judgment. Poking and prodding, torturing him to the brink of insanity.

'Murderer, killer, defiler, and sinner!'

He slumped to the floor crying like the child he failed to save. The voices resonated in his mind so much that his walls were breaking down. He was beginning to believe what they were saying.