(Un)JustifiedA Story by Undying Glory Another story about war that I wrote. Featuring the song "M.I.A" by Avenged Sevenfold. About a guy regretting his actions in a war... (Un)Justified As the night
claimed the world, a lone figure stood at the edge of the big lake. As he
watched the water eddy and ripple throughout the lake, and admire the moon’s
reflection off the black, cold water, he reached into his pocket. Her face
stared back at him, her beauty preserved forever in that moment, as he held the
photograph in his hands. The light of the moon was so bright, bright enough for
him to see her face without a streetlamp or any other source of light. He sighed softly and pressed the photo to his
face. His trembling hands reached out, and he stroked her face in the
photograph with his thumbs. It was the
closest that he would ever get to holding her now. He reached into his pocket,
and withdrew something else. The nickel-plated
.45 pistol shone brightly in the moonlight. For a weapon, it was a brilliant
piece of art, beautifully crafted, and as deadly as it was beautiful. He
fingered the pistol and looked for the thousandth time at the small engraving
on the butt of the pistol. SOMMERFIELD It was an
old family heirloom which he had inherited on his nineteenth birthday. His
great-grandfather had fashioned the gun himself, and throughout the generations
his family had maintained the pistol well, cleaning and oiling it regularly,
ensuring it could still fire properly, and now it was his. He was so
proud the day he received the gun. He had sworn to himself that he would never
use it for anything bad, only in self-defence or to save someone. Eventually,
he could not keep that promise. He sat down
at the jetty and placed the gun next to him. In the circumstances he had been
in, killing would have been more than justified. It would
have been a necessity in his case at the time. However, nothing, nothing at all
could ever have justified what he had done. It was only a matter of sheer luck
that they had decided to reduce what he had gotten. He let his mind drift away,
carried away by the hypnotic flowing of the water, the silent howl of the wind
and the rustle of the leaves, the moon hanging silently in the sky. His mind
spun slowly around himself, spiralling inwards. It finally
settled on her. As her face came rushing back, so did all the bad memories.
Memories that he had tried, vainly, to bury in the past. He looked up, vaguely
remembering a song by Avenged Sevenfold. The song was
titled “M.I.A”. As he watched the moon, he heard the song, as clear as day, in
his head. As Synyster Gates played the opening riff of the song, he almost felt
his vision blur, as he was sent back in time to those days, the days he was in
the war. And the first day that he met her. She was so
beautiful in his memory, with wit as sharp as a blade and really smart, who
could memorise entire textbooks and recall them word for word. She had a sweet
smile and she never failed to get his heart pumping a million times faster. And to top
things off, she was also his comrade-in-arms. She was a
soldier, like him, and she also had the same rank as him. Her weapon of choice
was a sniper rifle, and she had always been nice towards him. Through army
camp, they had drawn closer and closer to each other, despite strict
anti-fraternization rules, making out by themselves in the dead of night,
cherishing the other in a special part of their heart. Their squad mates had
mocked them mercilessly, being “star-crossed lovers”, and it didn’t help that
her name was Juliet. They had fought in bloody wars together, always backing
each other up, never letting the other out of their sight. Sommerfield
listened as M. Shadows began to sing. “Staring at the carnage, Praying that the sun would never
rise, Living another day in disguise... These feelings can’t be right, Lend me your courage to stand up and
fight... On...tonight...” As
Sommerfield clutched the photo of Juliet to his face, he swayed his head to the
music. The beat soon picked up as the other members of Avenged Sevenfold joined
in. The bridge played, and at once he remembered the war, as he and his squad
had stepped on the foreign battlefield for the first time. The once-beautiful
land had been ravaged, and now it lay smouldering in the midst of artillery,
landmines and rockets. “The fighting rages on and on... To challenge me you must be strong... I walk your land but don’t belong... Two million soldiers can’t be
wrong...” He had been
sent to overthrow a terrible dictator in a country whose name he couldn’t
pronounce properly, in a land full of people he never knew, who spoke a
language he had never heard of in his life. All the civilians feared everyone
with a gun, and the slightest hint of gunfire sent everyone scattering in all
directions. Sommerfield,
along with his squad, had at first been stunned by the civilians. Shouldn’t
they be happy that their days of terror were over? They had come as their
liberators, as their saviours. Finally, they met an old man who understood
English. “You say you bring peace and security
to our country. Yet all we see is more and more bloodshed. How can we believe
anything we are told now?” As the
chorus played, Sommerfield couldn’t help but realise the truth of the man’s
words. “Fight for honor, fight for your
life, Pray to God that our side is right, Though we won, I still may lose Until I make it home to you... I see our mothers filled with tears, Grew up so fast, where did those
years go, Memories won’t let you cry Unless I don’t return tonight...” As the
bridge played, Sommerfield remembered the nights he had spent with Juliet,
under the dark skies, in a world slashed by war. He could still remember how it
had felt with her in his arms, murmuring softly in the darkness, him holding
her close, her running her hands along his face, and how they planned to marry
after everything was over. He remembered his mother hugging him, crying softly,
and praying that him and Juliet would make it through the war. As fate
would have it, only he made it. He listened as M. Shadows sung the next verse
of the song. “So many soldiers on the other
side... I take their lives so they can’t take
mine... (Scared to make it out alive, now
murder’s all I know...) Nobody tells me all the reasons I’m
here... I have my weapons so there’s nothing
to fear... (Another day, another life but
nothing real to show for)...” At those
words, Sommerfield remembered the combat, how he and his squad mates had fought
bitterly against a battle-hardened enemy, how they had fought outnumbered six
to one most of the time. He remembered every rifle shot, recalled the shock
waves and blast of every grenade, and each and every one of his friends that
died at the hands of the enemy. Every day was the same, killing, killing and
more killing. Only unlike civilian life, this was all justified. The chorus
played again, and he clutched the picture of Juliet as hard as he could, until
his knuckles turned white. “Fight for honor, fight for your
life, Pray to God that our side is right, Though we won, I still may lose Until I make it home to you... I see our mothers filled with tears, Grew up so fast, where did those
years go, Memories won’t let you cry Unless I don’t return tonight...” The verse
from the intro played again, and pangs of sadness ripped through Sommerfield’s
heart. After all, they were so close to making it out alive. The two of them
were about to leave the battlefield in two weeks. They could think of their
lives together, at last, after months and months. Now everything was gone,
scattered like ashes to the wind. “Staring at the carnage, Praying that the sun would never
rise, Living another day in disguise... These feelings can’t be right... Lend me you courage to stand up and
fight!” He had too
much blood on his hands, and he knew that all too well. As the next verses
played, Sommerfield looked down at himself almost in shame. Everyone had
commented that he was such a polite and gentle young man. Now he knew he was
capable of truly horrible deeds. “Watching the death toll rise,
wondering how I’m alive... Strangers’ blood on my hands, I’ve
shot all I can, There are no silent nights, watching
your brothers all die... To destroy all their plans, with no
thought of me, No thought of me... No thought of me...” As the
guitar solo started, Sommerfield held his head. Now all he could see in his mind
was her, and her last moments of life. He recalled her death with startling and
almost disturbing clarity. He almost felt as though he was sent back in time... The skies erupted in a blaze of
artillery that sliced the trees in half, causing the ground to shake under the
sheer weight of shells. Sporadic gunfire ripped across the empty lands, and
occasionally the explosions of grenades were heard. The screams of the wounded
and dying split the air, skin-crawling, almost inhuman shrieks. And through all
of this Sommerfield and Juliet crawled, keeping low to avoid the cold-blooded
snipers and machine gunners. However, Juliet was struggling to keep up, as the
small wound in her thigh had widened, and blood was trickling out, slowly but
steadily, leaving a snail-trail of blood behind her. She grabbed on to him, her teeth
clenched, resisting the excruciating pain. “Oww...Som...it’s so
painful...I...can’t...take...” “Hold on, baby...” As he scrambled
for a bandage and a small pack of morphine that the team medic had given him
earlier, he turned... And saw a dark figure behind Juliet,
raising his gun. The air exploded in a chatter of
submachine gun fire as Juliet instinctively curled into a ball. Sommerfield
ducked low, beneath the gunfire, firing back with the .45. As he reached
Juliet, he administered the morphine and bandaged her wound. Just as he had finished, the enemy
rolled on to his back and fired. His next burst cut right across
Juliet’s legs and back. Sommerfield watched in sheer horror
as the bullets ripped into her. Her body jerked with the impact of multiple
bullets, and a small trickle of blood began to flow from her mouth. He turned
her over. The wounds were simply too many. “No...no...no...stay with me,
Juliet...stay with me, please...STAY WITH ME!” Even though she was inches from
death, she smiled. The smile of one resigned to her fate. “I...love...you...Som...” The words
seemed to require the strength of a superhuman being to say. Her body slowly
went limp in his arms, and her eyes glazed over. He cradled her lifeless body in her
hands, sobbing softly. Then he placed her down as gently as he could, and closed
her eyes. He raised the .45 and turned, to see the enemy watching them with
amusement on his face. He fired. The man’s eyes bulged as
his chest exploded with blood, and he spun away and crashed into a wall. His
shallow breathing was all that kept him from death. Sommerfield glared at him. “Where do you live?” The man just managed to say the name
of the town before the bullet penetrated his brain. Sommerfield
gripped his head tighter. No matter how bad it was previously, much worse was
yet to come. As Sommerfield entered the city, he
found it deserted and empty. All the enemy soldiers had left the city, before
Sommerfield’s army had shelled the city. As the townspeople gingerly left their
houses, Sommerfield walked down the main road. Juliet’s death rang out again and
again in his mind. And here he was, in the hometown of her murderer. Before he knew it, the .45 was in his
hand. ...Gunshots... ...People screaming... ...Bodies littering the streets... ...Arrest... ...Court-martial... He deserved
far worse than the jail sentence that he received, and he knew it. He had only
been spared death due to his age and he was “clearly traumatized”. He had
forever regretted everything he had done. If only
there was no war... He and
Juliet could have been together... As the solo
ended, Synyster Gates played again the riff that had been played at the
beginning. M. Shadows sung the last verse. “Walk the city lonely, Memories that haunt are passing by, A murderer walks your streets
tonight... Forgive me for my crimes... Don’t forget that I was still young Fought so scared... In the name of God and country...” As the riff
dwindled gradually, Sommerfield placed the photo of Juliet back in his pocket.
He reached out, picking up the gun, admiring the craftsmanship of his
great-grandfather for one last time. He had gone
back on his vow. He didn’t deserve this anymore. No one else deserved the gun
either. He had oiled it with the blood of innocent people. He was going
to start anew, and rebuild his life. He got up
and walked back. But just before he turned to leave, he raised his arm and
hurled the gun with all his might. The water
rippled as the gun entered the lake, and immediately sunk to the bottom. © 2010 Undying GloryAuthor's Note
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Undying GlorySingapore, SingaporeAboutThe average guy you'd meet on the street, only with a hidden streak. Or several, for that matter. 24 year old, 4th year medical student, studying in Dundee, Scotland. Never underestimate the pow.. more..Writing
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