Soldier // Justin Bieber

On The Run

Justin’s POV

I ran... each booming gunshot taking away a piece of my shattered heart. Every stomach hurling scream and shout puncturing my heart as I tried to get away. The black boots, the weight of bricks, of which were strapped to my feet didn’t help; but I carried on. As I breathed out, the cold air formed a smoke-like mist. A bullet had pierced through me, leaving a hole at my hip. Blood seeped through my uniform as I tried to prevent the warm blood from bleeding out with the palm of my hand.

Smoke and ash gathered up in towering clouds around me, blocking my sight from reaching the tall leave less trees behind it. A small silver pen knife was clutched tightly in my palm, its metal surface slowly heating as my hand warmed it.

I hated this... the one reason I came here was gone; dead. And so there was nothing left for me here, I wanted revenge – oh trust me, I needed it – but I decided that I was best away from here. From Hell.

I had to get away; I needed to escape; although really, there was no escape.

For miles and miles I ran, the soles of my feet thumping as the blood rushed to them. The tip of my penknife pierced my skin, deep red blood slowly spread between my fingers. The palm of my other hand was still pressed against my wound, becoming sickly sticky as the blood dried.

My head was weighed down by my helmet, the strap rubbing my skin raw as I ran against the cool wind. The sky slowly became brighter, the moon disappearing as the sun arose. The sky was baby blue, not a single cloud in sight.

I drowned out the bellowing shouts and screams, so the only sound I was able to hear was that of my racing heartbeat. The beat echoed throughout my eardrums, my chest quickly rising and falling as I took deep breaths. I attempted to swallow, but was unable to due to the dryness and stickiness of my sore throat. The trees blurred as I ran past them, their bare branches slightly swaying with the wind. I’d decided it was now safe to walk, and so I slowed down paces until I finally reached walk.

I was surrounded with trees, their ghostly figures towering over me. The odd one or two gunshots could be heard from where I stood, but I knew that they were at least three miles away. As I carried on walking, the trees grew smaller and smaller, until I was left in what looked to me a corn field.

In the very corner of the field, hidden behind tall pine trees, was a house. A large house at that, it’s large windows allowed me to see inside. The rooms were brightly lit as large glass chandeliers’ hung proudly from the ceiling.  There was a large, blazing fire encased in a large marble fireplace, of which silver and gold ornaments were placed, neatly arranged.

Without thinking, I allowed my sore feet to scrape along the muddy ground as I walked towards the White Georgian house. The house slowly became more and more clear to me, and I managed to make out the large front door with my hazy eyesight. I made that door my goal, I needed to get to the door, that way I would be safe.

The trees and bushes around me started to move as I carried on walking. My mind was playing tricks on me. The ground beneath me disappeared, leaving me to feel like I was walking on thin air, as if I was floating. My head was pounding, my steady heartbeat thumping throughout my body.

I managed to stumble up the marble steps, the porch roof shadowed over me as my legs gave way. I fell to my knees before my head hit the cold stone floor, leaving a gash for sure. I let out a loud yell as I removed my blood stained hand from my wound, allowing the blood to seep out. Pain shot through me like knives as my body lay limp on the porch.

My eyesight slowly blacked out, but not before a sudden light hit my pupils, and the door slowly opened.