Disclamier: The Forty-Third War Isn't my creation. It's Lousie Moeri's work. This is orginally a English Writing. It's a bit of an AU fic. These are my own personal changes. Hope you like it!
Good Bye, Lolo
August 12, 1966
20:17 Near San Ildefonso (Revolutionaries' Camp)
Written by Pablo "Uno" Rameriz
Today was hell. That's all I can say. Today was the day Lolo fell. We lost the battle in San Ildefonso, but my war is still raging. Lolo...that stupid friend of mine. Why did you have to go? I am nearly alone in this damn war without you.
Around noon yesterday it first began. We crossed the river while dodging a few loyalist bullets here and there. (I saw Whistler chicken out today. Guess that rooster crowed for him. Macho Man ran screaming like a little girl.) But while crossing the river, I lost sight of Nacio and Lolo. Oh my God, I thought I was going to lose them both! Luckily it was a false alarm. We just got separated while crossing. I was lucky back then...
But that was a one deal thing. Today, we rampaged through the city. We, Nacio, Lolo and I, went through some finely decorated rooms. But Lolo paused in one of spacious rooms.
"Lolo! Put the money down! You won't need it!"
"Uno, you worry too much! I think this money's gonna be worth it!" he said as he crammed the thick wad of money into his pocket. The three of us ran down the ragged streets. The flying bullets nearly hit us. The stench of blood, smoke and war raged on.
That's when we reached the Church. The one place I never thought people could die. We reached the church grounds with success. Memories began filling my mind. That Easter. The Statue. The rooster of St. Peter.
"Okay you, two." Nacio whispered as we crouched in a cramped hiding spot in an ally. "On my count we're going into the church. Got it?"
We nodded.
"One...Two...Three...GO!!" We stormed in as fast as our tired and aching feet could carry us. Then it happened. My world seemed to go slower. A sniper was shot. I glanced around to see where the bullet was headed. Not to Nacio nor me, but to Lolo. The metal pellet entered his body, just an inch below his collarbone. The blood went out like a red fan into a fine crimson mist. The sound of the bones shattered as the bullet tried to force its way out. The force seemed to send him flying. Lolo was swept off his feet and a cloud of dust appeared. Not caring if the sniper sounded off again, I ran towards Lolo's fallen body and Nacio followed me. We quickly took our injured friend onto the side.
"Nacio, is he gonna?"
"I don't know Uno. But we must try." I placed Lolo's head onto Nacio's lap. Despair and pain swept over me.
"Lolo! Talk to me!!" Lolo's breath was dramatically shorter as blood spurted out at every breath.
"U, Uno... I don't I can..." he choked.
"Uno," Nacio said, "Let's take him in the church. We can't leave him off like this." He carried Lolo's body with great haste as we followed the other revolutionaries heading toward the church.
We took Lolo and hid between some old wooden pews. Hastily, I placed my tiny hand on the open mouth of the wound. The warm sick feeling of blood gushed up on my palm.
"Nacio, please tell me he's gonna make it!" Ignacio was also hit by an arrow of pain. He threw his gun down and shook his head.
"I don't know, dammit! We don't even have the supplies to heal him at this moment!...I don't know Uno, but we must have hope."
"U, Uno..." I looked down at my friend, tears we're choking my eyes. "I'm not going to make it..."
"NO! You're going to make it Lolo! Please, you must!" My body was shaking. Please God, don't let Lolo die. Please, no green leaves for Lolo...
"Nacio, Uno, take the money. I want you to have it. I won't need it when I go beyond this world."
"Lolo, PLEASE!"
"My life is finished. My tale is written. And I can finally see my sister and father again...Uno, for your's and Nacio's sake, keep fighting..." Lolo's eyes darkened and his lids slowly closed. He took his last breath.
"Lolo. Lolo! LOLO!!" We cried. It all seemed like a nightmare becoming hellÕs reality. Suddenly, a concealed soldier sprang up and fired an Uzi towards us. Ignacio snatched his gun and returned fire against the orange and gray soldier. And I remembered no more.
Around 19:30, I woke up on a stretcher. A bullet tore my shoulder and broke my collarbone. I was re-bandaged by Nacio and was escorted by him...for Lolo's funeral.
It was a small funeral. No, it was just a burial. Lolo's body was draped with a white sheet and placed in a deep hole. Nacio covered him with the dirt and I placed green leaves on top of the long mound. Memories of us as kids as friends and as comrades flowed into me and stabbed my heart.
Then Mendoza came to my side and handed me this notebook. "Here," he said, "Write down your feelings. Write to your heart's content. Let your mind be free. I'm very sorry about what happened today."
Mendoza and Ignacio left my side. I stayed and looked at the mound with the cross and green leaves. I looked down at the wad of money Lolo gave me. Lolo, I will keep on fighting. For our country, our families and for you, my friend.