World War 4: Sticks and Stones

Peter's Wish

I did what was right. I did what was right. I did what was. I stopped. I became, for the first time since seeing my child taken from me, scared. But why? I did... I did what was. I-I did. I stopped trying to convince myself that I did anything right. Everything I did, I did for my child. I did it out of love. So why, why does it feel so wrong? My heart broke in that moment for my villainy. I didn't do what was right, but I did what I had to do. I saved these people from eating each other, from having to see a child's face on their plates. I did what I had to do. I saved these people. I saved them. I did what was. I stopped again. I felt dizzy. My mind spun like a top, faster than the rotation of the Earth. I felt sick. I felt angry. I felt scared. I am evil. I am a villain. Dirty with power over these innocent people. I was corrupted by my fate. But I didn't have to be. I did what I did and what I did was evil. It was disgusting.  All that passionate rage that I felt while carving death into the stomachs of women was nothing, but fear. Not for my life. I had the gun. No one could kill me. I felt fear that I created a fate for me that didn't have to exist. I am nothing more than the enemy because I am the enemy. I kept walking. I am the enemy. I walked further. I am the enemy. I am death. I am destruction, but I never had to be. I created a Destiny for myself that was fake, it was nothing, but my anger creating a path that I decided to walk. So from now on, I was going to choose a new path. I took the bullets from my gun and threw them onto the ground. "My friends. I did an evil thing. We all did, but it was I who decided that it was the only way. It was not the only way. It was not the only way. It never had to be. But I made it the only way. Our job should be to protect life on this planet, not take it, not destroy it, not burn it down until there is nothing left. That produces nothing. It changes nothing. We are people. We can do better. I can do better. I did what was wrong. Today we forge a new path. We create a new Destiny." As I said this, my mind swirled faster and faster. Tears from my eyes fell harder and harder. I fell to the ground in a triumphant descent. Through deeply shallow breaths I spoke again. "We are going to find people! We are going to change people! Our World War is not a war of bloodshed anymore, but a war against war itself." At this I ordered my friends to empty their weapons as we would try now to find Ben's crew.

We wandered for years picking up trails of cans here and there, but nothing ever significant. Suddenly, one day I found an all too familiar face. I sat next to them. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I'm so sorry for what I did to everyone. I know that you will never forgive me because I will never forgive myself, but we have an obligation to be better. And I'm sorry that you will not be able to see the world that we create." I fell to my knees next to Eliza's cold body. Her heart pierced by something that only hatred could create. I wished to never see a body again, but in times of war there would always be death. In a moment of lapse, I felt angry at myself, as always, but even more angry at whoever killed this woman. I wished death upon that person. I truly wished that their heart would stop beating and they would feel the repercussions of their actions. I hated that I still had these feelings. I hit myself as hard as I could with my gun, leaving a blotch of red on my face and tears in my eyes. "We shall hold a burial in her name! She did not deserve to die. As life is taken, our battles are lost." That night I sat next to her grave in heartache. I imagined survivors of my massacre and how they felt. I killed wives, husbands, daughters, sons. I killed budding romances and lifesaving friendships. I killed those who were finally realizing why life was worth living. I killed those who had already realized. I killed thousands. And here I was, mourning the death of one. It felt hypocritical. I was an evil man. I killed good people. And yet, I, the evil one am allowed to live. It didn't seem fair. But as I was allowed to live, I had to make it mean something. And so because of this, I fell in love with the corpse of a young woman who deserved better. I fell in love with her dreams, her aspirations, her goals, her source of happiness. I fell in love with the idea of the person that Eliza could have been. I fell in love with humanity again. I no longer wanted to save people to redeem my own actions, but I wanted to save humanness. I sang to her. I told jokes to her, I felt something again. I felt hope.