Interior Monologue

Step by wicked step, my boots sank further and further into the thick, red-tinged land as if the devil himself were dragging my body straight into the depths of hell. The rhythmic squelching stabbed through my rubber soles, radiating pain throughout my soul as it seared everything in its path. Squelch, squelch, squish. My tempo was interrupted by those cursed boots refusing to budge from the stubborn terrain. As if taunting me, the earth unhooked my feet from the damned soil and I found myself catapulted face-first towards the ground.

Haven’t I had enough? In the space of a few days, I had been thrown into a living nightmare worse than I could ever have imagined. Now, all I could taste was the saturated, acrid, mud and the salty tang of blood where I had bitten the inside of my lip. My vision blurred as I willed strength to enter my fatigued body, drained dry from the never-ending march of despair. Caterwauling erupted around my vicinity, however too
The gruesome scene that burned itself into his retina would torment his dreams for years to come. Even when it was over, the image replayed itself in his mind until he could bear it no longer. What a waste of life; though he didn’t know the man in question, he knew it didn’t matter. There were millions like them every single day, experiencing unspeakable suffering and agony. Fred walked up to stand beside him, shaking his head in regret. No words were necessary to communicate the heinous crime against humanity that lay face down before them, limbs splayed at an awkward angle. “Back to work, Will,” he sighed in a monotone voice. Though Will couldn’t see Fred’s eyes through the ghastly helmet, he knew they were bloodshot as his were. Who knows; it could be either one of them next though the alternative didn’t sound any better. A long, arduous journey lay ahead before they could return home. To die for one’s country; what a sick, cruel,