When the Sniper turned the body over, he was staring into his brother’s eyes. The Sniper turned cold. For a time, he just sat there with the numbness of shock that shielded him from the world around him. Hearing a loud gunshot, the Sniper finally came to his senses. He realized that it was near dawn and his sense of urgency to report to the Commander came back to him. The Sniper couldn’t leave the body though, since it was his brother. He decided to bring the body with him.
The Sniper stood up and cautiously scanned the area. With extreme slowness he bent over and attempted to drag his brother past a tree line. An agonizing pain swept over the Sniper in his right arm where the bullet was still lodged. He …show more content…
He was lucky to not have been spotted so far. The Sniper looked at the stunted trees with tired, glassy eyes. The area around the trees was scarred with bullets and shells. The trees alone remained untouched. The Sniper dragged his brother with one arm to under a tree. He lay him down gently, wincing as his arm bent. He stared down at his brother’s corpse. He considered doing something ceremonial, like saying a prayer or arranging flowers. But this was war. There was no time for flowers. He shouldn’t even be here. The image before him swam as his eyes filled with tears. As the sun rose, he turned and walked away from the last person he cared …show more content…
The sun may be up, but your shift is far from done,” the Commander responded. “No, Commander,” the Sniper retorted, “I’m done. With the war. With this job. With everything.” “Now stop being so dramatic. You’re war hardened, and definitely not the emotional type.” The Commander chuckled. “You can’t just quit and walk out. That’s suicide.” “So be it,” replied the Sniper, determined. “This war is an ugly leech. Sucking out all human emotion. We are killing people. They aren’t objects, nor are we. Being human means having feelings.” The sniper paused, his guilt finally overflowing, then exploded. “I killed my own brother!” “If he’s Free State, then congratulations! But it was you that killed him,” began the Commander. “No,” interrupted the Sniper, “It was you! In fact, it’s everyone’s fault! We started this war, turning people against their own family. If this type of thing is victory, then I don’t want it!” With a determined look on his face, the Sniper turned towards the door. He held up his injured arm. “This pain is nothing compared to the pain of remorse,” the Sniper finished. The Commander rose, aghast, as the Sniper lay his rifle down and stepped out into a hail of Free State