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With Blackbirds Following MeThey say that it's the soldiers who spill and see the most blood. I would have to openly disagree. While they're the ones who carry the guns and protect and defend our homeland, did they ever stop to see we're the ones striving to save it? They moan of their friends lost in battles they fought side by side, but they can never understand pains I've known. Emotionless, perhaps I amperhaps I need to be. But inside
Never shall they know the pain of losing a friend as I do. The pain of knowing you were the only one who had a chance to save him. And you couldn't
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of his voice, the other young medic quickly entering our tent. He wasn't like the other soldiers around here, stiff and serious. Instead, he was carefree and wielded a smile on his face. Though happy to see him, I continue to frown, simply nodding my head to him.
He was a newly transferred boy to the front, and he had taken
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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