Yugotalia Senerios

Srebrenica

It was a regular day at the world confrence, consisting of pointless arguments and topics that simply never needed to be addressed. Bosnia had his place at the far end of the long table; he wasn't paying much attention, seeing that there was nothing productive  going on.

His dull green eyes glanced around the roomat a few nations; Croatia was sitting there quietly, minding his own business. Montenegro was chatting quietly with Macedonia, and Serbia looked to be asleep, head rested on his arms and eyes closed. Bosnia looked away; there were better things he had to do than participate in this meeting. Nothing wa getting done.

Suddenly, Germany slammed his fists on the table, calling for order in the room. He demanded that anyone sleeping woke up, and that they pay attention to a new topic, which he would propose if everyone shut up. Bosnia sighed and listened to the German; maybe something worthwhile would come from that man.

"I know we came to this meeting to speak of important things; it is 2014,for gott's sake. We have better things to argue about than whose faultgoes upon whome for events that do noy matter. Now I have a video to show everyone; it has just resurfaced from former Army of Republika Srpska soldiers. This video,'' Germany walked over to a video projector and clicked a button. ''Was taken in july of 1995 near Srebrenica,Bosnia''

Bosnia was now at full attention to the video. The film was rolling, and Bosnia could tell it had been taken by a Republika Srpska soldier on a handheld video camera. When he realized what he was watching, the memory played in his mind.

Zlatko was forced to sit on his knees before a large hole in the ground, his wrists tied together behind him. His hair was gripped tightly in a hand completely out of his mind Novak (Serbia),  who had been executing Bosnians for days. Zlatko watched in pure horror as a few bodies were carelessly tossed in the pit before him.

A young boy ran over to the pit in pursuit of his mother, who he didn't know was dead. A soldier of the VRS grabbed the child's arm, shouting at him and threatening him with a pistol.

''N-No! G-God, no! Don't do it' Zlatko shouted. Novak, the Serbian representation holding him, laughed a bit.

''Shoot him'' Novak ordered. The soldier listened, placing a bullet in the skull of the child.

''No! G-God dammit, stop!'' Zlatko begged, tilting his head downwards and letting out a sob. These were his people; he couldn't help them or do anything for them. Novak had him held tight, and was forcing him to watch every atrocity.

''What was that, Pilav? You want us to stop? Too bad my friend. This is too marvelous!'' Novak was insane. Completely insane. The Bosnian knew this wasn't the Serbian representation everyone was used to; after years and years of war and agony, Novak had lost his mind. Zlatko was sad to say that Novak didn't know what he was doing, or what he was causing. Novak's mind was completely unwired; there was no way he would remember any of this once he came out if his delirium.

''Wh-Why the hell are you doing this, Novak? Please, stop! I beg of you!'' Zlatko pleaded, though he knew his words ment nothing to the represntation that was killing his people.

Novak clutched Zlatko's hair tighter and forced him to stand, tilting his head upwards and placing a pistol under his chin.

''Perhaps you would like to feel like them, Zlatko? Tell me, would you like to be with your people?''

''I-I want you to stop this madness, please! I-I beg of you! I-I'll do anything you want, j-just stop killing them!''

Novak laughed and aimed the pistol at a nearby Bosnian, who he shot with no remorse right in the head. He undid the ties around Zlatko's wrists quickly, slightly confusing the Bosnian representation. He then shoved Zlatko over to another Bosnian, forcing the pistol into Zlatko's hands with a sickening grin on his face.