golden eyes

One

He never wanted to fight.
He never wanted to hurt anyone.
But then most people don't want to hurt anyone, they don't want to fight and die.
Nobody living in peace imagines that one day they are going to Stan in the middle of a battlefield, they don't expect to feel the bullets piercing their flesh.
They don't expect to die.

Everyone dies.
An undeniable fact.
If you live a year, or maybe a month or even to be a thousand years old, in the end it is always the same, isn't it?
Does it make a difference if you have the time to live a life?
If you have a career or not, if you have a family or not?
Does it matter?
Does anybody besides ourselves care for the thinghs we have done?
Do my loved ones really care if I live to see another day?
In the end even if they cry at my grave they willow on.
Eventually.
Does that mean that they honor my life by living their?
Or have they simply forgotten me?
I don't know.
Do you?

The war started when I wasn't young anymore, but neither was I old.
I would never be old.

.....

,,Who volunteers?"
The questions is heavy and seems to stand in the room like an elephant.
Big and undeniable there, but no one dares to acknowledge it.
Nobody raises there hand, instead everyone tries to look if they suddenly have something better to do.

,,I will."
The spoken words are a sign of a desire to die.
The dealer us a man who looks as if he u
Is serious.

It would be easier to bear, realises Hopeless, if it hadn't been his best friend volunteering fir a suicide mission.
If it were a stranger I would watch them die without hesitation.
Does that mean I am a bad person?

,,I will go with him.", the words come out of Hopeless with a certain resignation.
Off course everyone cheers and is incredible grateful for the two volunteers.

,,I too."adds Ghastly.
Another friend, who will die with us, thinks Hopeless.

While everyone looks at them like they are crazy and hero's at the sake time, Hopeless wonders.
Would they think less of him, if he told them that he just doesn't want to be left behind?
That he isn't strong enough to live a life without his friends?

Deuce looks at them approving as if volunteering for suicides missions is exactly what he trained them for.
Hopeless wonders if he will feel the same, when he stands at their grave.
That of course means in case they will get a grave, wich is in this war not a given.

,,What a good day to die, isn't it?"asks Skulduggery, Hopeless is pretty sure that he is joking.
Hopefully.

,,Let's go then."mutter Ghastly as happy as a man...well going towards his death.

Champagne flows as soon as they return  and people cheer and call them "heros".
Hopeless wonders if they still would call him a hero if they knew what they hadn't done in order to succeed.
If they would see the dead bodies would they still cheer?
If they had to stabb people from behind in the back in order to succeed like they had, would they still cheer?
Hopeless wouldn't.
He doesn't feel like celebrating himself, if anythingh he wants to go to his room and cry his eyes out.

All he can see are the dead bodies, the corpses of the people he killed.
As soon as he closes his eyes he sees their faces and he wonders what they were.
Had they been mother or father?
Was there a child orphaned, because of him?
Had they been brother or sister to someone else?
Had he robbed someone else off a sibling for their victory?
Was there, a parent right now crying at the grave of the child they had lost, how  could they throw a party right now?

All Hopeless can see when he looks around are people celebrating death.
Every time someone says "what a great victory", he wants to speak up and say ,,What a great blood bath you mean"