short stories

war

war

Not able to say any words, bowed over his body. His breath was fast, everyone could hear his suffering. James just felt the tears come to his eyes, even Robert at the edge of life could still notice that. James held his hand on the red stain of Robert's uniform.
"Stay," is all that James got to say.
An emptiness started to raise in both of them, Robert falling in the black hole, James, mixed with anger, sadness and madness, all together it made a mess leading to an emptiness in his mind. Robert's eyes didn't close, they stayed open, empty and dead. James closed his eyes and the tears dropped on Robert's face. His face got all blue and pale, James could only let a guttural scream out of him. Anger showed more, he wanted revenge. His body, skinny and hungry, could kill thousands of men even though he was so weak. Where should he get food from anyways? Someone killed his best friend. He would never apologise himself. Because hate grew more against himself, why didn't he die? Why did it have to be Robert? He had a wife and children. James was alone, he only had Robert. His mum was ill, maybe dead already, he didn't got news from her since a long time. Why did Robert had to die?
"Why wasn't it me?" he said to himself.
The stream of tears didn't stop to fall on his cheeks. He could cry an ocean full, he took his Luger and shot everywhere. Standing up was not a good idea, he could be shot fast, but he didn't seem to care. James just stood up and shot and shot. Even some soldiers of his own party suffered from it, he didn't care, no one could understand and feel his pain. James saw just blurred, and walked without knowing where. And then he fell. He took some time to understand where he was. He was in a entrenchment of the enemy. A man stood over him, pointing a gun.
He could be my friend, James thought. But he was his enemy, why did men had to do war? Robert would have never died. He threw his weapon away and put his hands up. "What are you doing here?" the man asked.
"I fell."
"You know I should shoot you. But we could take information from you," he smiled in a pervert disgusting way.
"I don't know anything, I'm empty."
"Empty? I'm sure you are full of interesting things," and he grabbed James from the collar and pulled him behind him.
This is it, James thought. He took a gun from the ground and held it to his temple. "Ey you!" he screamed.
The man turned around and let James plumb on the ground. He pointed the gun at his mysterious enemy.
"Why are you pointing your gun at me?" James asked.
"Don't do that," the enemy said silently.
"3," James started a countdown.
"Don't do that!" he screamed.
"2," James sighed, "1"
He nearly pulled the trigger, but the man shouted "What do you want?"
"My friend."
"Who's your friend?"
"He's dead."
The man, called Henry, had a wife with 3 children, constantly thinking about them. He always wanted to help his country, so he came to the front, but placed as sergeant first class. Only few man could order things to him. Why did he just protected that guy? He was worthless to his eyes, he could get information from elsewhere. Yet still he stopped him from killing himself.
"I can't help you then."
James slowly tried to stand up, so he could talk to that guy face to face, but his hand slipped and he fell again. Henry stretched his hand out, James looked at it, he didn't understand.
"I'm not the peste."
James decided to take that lift, it was a powerful arm.
"I'm Henry."
"James."
Henry looked around, maybe someone could see him be kind with an enemy, there were indeed faces looking at them.
"I'm gonna have to hurt you until we arrive in my tent," Henry said.
He took his collar again and pretended to force him to walk. James protested, Henry slapped the back of his head. When they arrived at Henry's tent, James just stood there, fascinated. There was so much food, from where did they got it? Henry took food form different shelves, put it in the table. There was fish, slices of dried sausage, potatoes, cookies, dried dates or bananas and apples, cheese, noodles and what James personally preferred apple pie.
"Help yourself."
James threw himself on the table and ate so much that he threw up afterwards. Henry just watched, smiling a little. James realised then why this could be. Killing with kindness. So he could get information out of him. He threw everything up then.
"You have a wife?" James asked.
"Yes, I got 3 kids. Two girls and a boy, all very beautiful."
"You miss them?"
"Of course. I miss them a lot."
James just stared at that object on the table, he thought about Robert. He would always be his only friend.
"I'm going to spare you then, because you have someone waiting for you to get home. I know your intention is to get information from me and I will not let that happen. I just lost my best friend, the only person in my life. I have nothing to lose and hold on to."
Henry knew his intention but he did nothing. He wanted to keep that man alive because he saw so much in him. So much more than hate and an enemy. He never had the idea to kill him with kindness but it could've been in James' mind. He closed his eyes when he heard the knife go into the throat. He didn't want to see that dead man. And then he felt that pain in his throat and how he fell on the ground.
James killed him, and then himself. They lied there next to each other, bathing in their own blood. Henry touched James' cheek with his last force and James took his hand. They looked at each other until someone would separate them.

Here we go! I hate to represent anyone as bad, because I believe in the good. I think that there is no real big distinction between the good and bad. In tales for example it's really delimited, but in everyone there is good and bad. It's just a matter of perspective, some people would see it as something right, others as wrong.
Bérénice