Schlagwörter

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I was a soldier. I fought for my land. I was obdient, I didn’t thought.With my gun I killed cause I was told to. I got medals. They praised me and told me I’m hero again and again. But one day… I realized what I really am. A monster with crimson hands. She showed me.
She was a normal citizien. Actually we were enemys. I was badly wounded when I met her the first time. The woman took me in although she knew who I was. When I laid in her bed I asked her why she was helping me. And this special woman looked at me and shook her head. “ What is so special about your land you have to sacrifice yourself and all the people around you? Did you ever think about people who don’t want to have a war? What’s your reason to go this far? Is it worth the suffering?“ “ It’s my homeland, lady. There is no way I can’t love it. I have my pride.“  „Why being so proud of the coincidence being born in some land?“ She stood up and left me alone with my thoughts that day.
I got better and after some weeks I was fully recovered. „Don’t die out there. It isn’t worth the result of all this.“ she told me and threw me out. So I went back to my comrades. I didn’t told anyone about her. I just could have forgotten everything and lived on like nothing ever happened but her words didn’t get out of my head. Then they ordered me to shoot a village. For the first time I brought an order into question. „They are the enemy. Do we need any other reasons?“ I did it. But this time I hated it and I couldn’t bring myself up to be proud of my land. Everyone thought we were heros. But were we?
7 months after that we tried to capture the capitol. And there she was. On the battlefield I met her. In the middle of fire, guns, bullets and chaos. She stepped closer,didn’t avert her eyes, didn’t show any fear. „What are you doing here Lady? That’s not a place where a woman should be!“ I lifted my gun. „Go! Go before it will be too late!“ „No soldier. There isn’t a place where a woman shouldn’t be. War concerns everyone.“ She came closer. „Stop right there. Please.“ Please… I begged her. And then I shot.
She sank on her knees, a sour smile on her face. The soil drank her blood. Also the white flag in her hand. Crimson red. „You don’t have to do this soldier.“ Her last words were kind then she closed her eyes and stopped breathing.
Her face tortures me in my dreams, her words pound in my head. At home, they were so damn proud of me.

I stopped being a soldier.

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