I died.
I was a renegade, living in some desert-filled country. Our mission was going very well; we had managed to sneak into the enemy's barracks while they were sleeping. Suddenly, some silent alarum awakes the soldiers, who at the time resembled black indefinite shapes (being hidden under blankets).
My comrades and I split, each of us scattering so that not all of us will be caught in the same net. I was running down the dirt road already, and I could see a copse of scrawny weather-beaten trees by the side of the road. All around was open heat-baked desert, so I ran to the copse and scurried under the dry brush. Some of my friends were already there, and we crouched silently as we waited.
The enemy came by, we could hear the clumping of their boots before we could see them. I lifted my eyes, hoping to memorize some faces in case I ever came across them again, so I could remember their face before they were tortured slowly for information.
But no! A most horrendous feeling of dread came over me, as I looked up at their faces. The enemy was not inhuman, not aliens or evil men with thick brows and sloping foreheads. They were teenagers, young men and women just like us! Chattering amongst each other, while the girls gaily tossed their hair, and the boys telling wildly exagerrated stories of past feats of bravery, with a prisoner bound and forced to walk on shackled feet between a pair of these soldiers. And the strangest emotion came over me: I did not feel hate for the enemy, or the need to destroy. They were just like us.
Gazing at these happy youths of war, one suddenly caught my eye. A girl, a bit older than me and taller, had been giggling with her fellow soldier, when she abruptly turned and met my eyes. I held my breath, wondering if she had seen me or was just looking into the brush. No- No..she had seen me. A black moment, and without knowing how I had gotten there, I was one of the prisoners, walking with my ankles chafing from heavy iron cuffs in dry heat.
They brought us into a spacious antechamber. It was warm, with comfortable armchairs and clinical tops, much like a bathroom that has been turned into a lounge. The light was a yellow ambient glow, the wall colours a soft pastel blend that spoke of calmness and serenity. I sat down on the edge of a chair, and stared into my hands as the enemy laughed and talked over my bent head.
Because I knew what would happen. I knew this wait in this lovely antechamber meant only one thing - inevitable death. It was a mockery, the way they bantered so nonchalantly amongst themselves, as if they had not a care in the world while we slowly screamed and burned to death in chlorine gas.
The sound of cutlery drew me out of my reverie. The enemy were preparing some sort of Last Meal affair: delicious-smelling lobsters, succulent fresh strawberries in cream, oven-baked bread slightly steaming...the delicious aromas wafted around, it was nearly to die for. Each prisoner was given a choice of their last meal, but when the girl came round to me, I stubbornly refused. They whined, they begged, they simpered, but I would not take any of it. Because if I did, it would be all over.
Many times this happened, with different groups of prisoners being brought in. Most of them looked surprised at the treatment, as if to say "Hey, this might not be so bad. Maybe I won't die after all." They maintained this attitude till they left through the steel door on the other side opposite of the room, where I never saw any of them return.
However, I knew my method would not keep up for long. I knew this, to the very depths of my soul, that I
would die. Do you know how sad and frightening it is, to know without a doubt that you will die in the next couple of moments? No second chance, no redemption, just leaving, and at the hands of the enemy. I remember sobbing at the end of my dream, because this tormented me so.
Finally, I gave in. I took a sundae that was handed to me by my smiling murderess, tasted sweet fudge for the last time, and walked towards the heavy steel door. It opened, and the brightest light shone through it. I never saw what was on the other side.
--- --- --- --- ---
In the morning, I woke up to find I had actually wept, because the feelings evoked were so strong they broke through and made me cry in real-life. And when I woke up, the feeling was so godawful, like my parents had died, my friends had died, and everyone who cared about me or I them had left me all alone. All alone.
