Lone Soldier

Gray clouds swelled in the sky, swirling around the recent sight of a tragic battle. In the midst of the dead and decaying bodies were two characters, both truly alive and dead simultaneously. One of them, Lone Soldier, sat with his back against an old concrete pile of debris. His head was tilted towards the sky as the first raindrop fell. Or was it a tear drop? His gaze was foggy and hazy. Through it, he couldn't tell. The distorted world he could see provided no truth for him to find comfort in.

Beside him was Lucille, a friend made through a bond created by the shared stress and anxiety of going to battle. The hard work and progress had made them a simple machine when combined. As they'd fallen into line with their comrades that was all they could be. A simple machine. They functioned only if every part worked correctly. In the giant machine, Lucille and Lone Soldier were the last ones left alive...and soon, Lone Soldier knew he would recognize solitude for the first time.

Upon closer examination of Lucille, one would have seen that, underneath the tattered, filthy clothing was a gaping gash in Lucille's shoulder, bleeding crimson onto Lucille's arm. Lone Soldier had acknowledged the fact that Lucille was dying a slow, miserable death a long time ago. Whether or not he could take action was irrelevant. Taking action didn't always have positive results.

"Hey, Lucille..." Lone Soldier whispered softly, turning his head and only his head towards Lucille. Lucille's cracked lips spread into a weak smile. Lone Soldier didn't wait for an answer. He didn't expect one. He continued. "Why am I here? Here in this field, watching you..." he stopped and took a deep, staggering breath. "Watching you..."

"Die." Lucille chuckled bitterly. Lone Soldier's gaze slithered to the gaze. He wished he could have unheard that statement. Lucille wasn't supposed to be more accepting of this fact than him. Lucille was the one who should have been mourning.

Closing his eyes half way, Lone Soldier listened to the gentle beating of rain against the hard earth of the ground. He would have laughed, had he not been so tired. The rain was too late. Everything was dead. Not even a flood of water could breathe life into the land once more. The black burns along the ground grew darker as they became soaked.

"Why am I a soldier? What am I fighting for?" Lone Soldier questioned, allowing the feeling of nausea to crawl up his throat. He looked to Lucille. "For my country? For the government? For myself? Who are you fighting for, Lucille?"

Lucille shifted, though it was a small, almost insignificant movement. "I'm not fighting...I'm dying..."

Lone Soldier grimaced. "I suppose you are, Lucille." he agreed, heart beat gradually quickening. He licked his dry lips and moved closer to Lucille. "I'm cold, Lucille. It shouldn't be cold here."

Lucille's only reply was a hoarse, roaring cough and a spasm of the torso. As much as Lone Soldier was observing Lucille's final actions, Lucille was examining Lone Soldier. Lone Soldier was definitely disheveled. His eyes were dull and his hands quivered. Lucille could see it, but said nothing. The sickening gash along Lone Soldier's side said it all. Lucille muttered these words in a low voice. "Rest in peace."

Lone Soldier blinked and groaned. "Lucille, how can you say so little at a time like this? I'd cry long and hard if I was dying like you." He clenched his fist. He winced. It took more effort to move than he would have liked.

"I admire you, Lucille." Lone Soldier's tone was gentle, kindly to the point of depression. "You're brave, you're smart, and you're so damn...warm. You are very warm... I wish I was as warm as you..."

Lucille just smiled that same weak smile. Lone Soldier could hear a low, stretched out, fragile sound escape Lucille's lips. He knew Lucille could no longer speak but chose not to accept it. Lone Soldier reached over despite the pain, and gently clenched Lucille's head.

"I don't know why I'm here, Lucille... and you won't tell me. I can say what I've done, though, Lucille. I've burned down a city full of innocents. I've murdered other human beings with these hands, with this firearm I have strapped to my side. I killed a kid...I followed orders..." Lone Soldier whispered in a dry voice. He rested his head on Lucille's shoulder. "I always followed orders..."

By the time Lone Soldier had finished speaking, he could no longer feel Lucille's pulse. He could no longer feel Lucille's heart beating. He allowed the bitter flow of tears to cascade down his cheeks. He clawed at his own face in desperation. "You should have been a soldier, Lucille!" he sobbed, burying his head against Lucille's bleeding shoulder. "You shouldn't have been a civilian! You shouldn't have been in the cross fire! You shouldn't have been the woman I fell in love with! You should have stayed the enemy...You shouldn't have listened to me. I'm a liar, Lucille! I couldn't save your family or you!"

The world around Lone Soldier began to spin, but Lone Soldier couldn't see it. He couldn't see that his wound had been pouring his blood upon the floor. He couldn't see that he was about to die. He couldn't see Lucille's corpse. All he could see was black...that's all he wanted to see.

"Why am I here?" he choked once more, smiling through the empty tears. "Lucille, why the hell are we here? I don't know but..." His breath died halfway through the sentence, and his body slumped over Lucille's.

I don't know why...

But it wasn't for this.