"Hey mister? You wanna buy my sister?"

The desert sun had already reached its peak in the furnace I had come to know as home for the past few months. Rays of light pelted down upon my kevlared head. Large drops of sweat started to roll down my spine further sticking the cotton tee that protected me from the chaff of the desert camo. I was already annoyed. Once more I thought about what twisted flicker of fate had brought me to this god-forsaken place. The sound of the voice I couldn't locate did little to placate my present mood.

"Hey Mister...."

Not far away stood a school. It was a kindness from us to them to show how much we cared, but truthfully, it was a lie. The whitewashed walls some shmuck painted did little to hide the fact the cozy alliance between us and the locals was anything but. The reality of the situation was us against them and frankly, we held all the power. Like all covenants of old, they did what we wanted, because our power was bigger than theirs. It was a power now enforced by the carbon steel I held in my oily palms and punctuated by the thirty individual 5.56 full-metal jackets loaded into its belly. Not a great idea to give such a powerful weapon to an annoyed young man barely outside his teens, but no one had ever accused my government of having great ideas.

"You wanna buy my sister?"

A stray object grabbed me by the elbow and startled me. An on-edge instinct that had been buzzing in the back of my mind since arriving in this god-forsaken land kicked in. Alarmed, I quickly turned and brought up the carbon steel to eye level. In a flash I switched off the safety and stared down the barrel of my weapon to find a boy no more than twelve. A large layer of dirt covered his clothing that I doubted had ever been washed. Small beady eyes and short black hair matted down by some object other than a comb greeted me with genuine curiosity.

"Mister?"

Was the boy blind? Had he not seen the two-foot-long weapon I now pointed in his direction? I might have shot him, thus adding his small frame to the numerous piles of animal carcasses now littered on the street, but his approach showed anything but fear. Instead, his wisp of a smile turned upward finally happy to have captured the attention of the barely a man soldier. He pointed to the house behind him and repeated his insistent question once more.

"You wanna buy my sister?"

'Sister?' my mind thought, but it was easy to find her. Barely a woman herself, the darkhaired maiden looked across the street at me and smiled a toothy smile. Her plumb red lips were accented by a velvet jade dress that gently swayed with the twist of her hips. The small act had caught me flat-footed and flabbergasted as my mind started to realize the whole thing wasn't a joke. In the moment, I floundered and stuttered trying to find words while the more manly of soldiers around me started to laugh at my misfortune.

"You take her away from here. Take her to your home. Keep her safe."

"Oh," came my reply as I once more stared at the female across the street. A sad but determined look filled her brown eyes. The moment ours locked, my heart softened and my annoyance faded as the reality of the situation finally dawned on me. She was trapped and likely had put her brother up to it. I might have been stuck here for a few more months, but this god-forsaken place was her home; a home ravaged in the name of freedom.

"Mister?"

Wordlessly, I shook my head no. The boy's smile dropped, but it didn't matter. The action wasn't for him. With a small bow of her head, the woman turned, once more flickering the velvet jade dress, and left never to be seen again. In another life, we could have been classmates, friends, or even lovers. However, in that time, in that place, in that moment, we both shared a strange kinship of hopelessness and desperation of our current situation. Fortunately, for me, it would all end. In time, I'd go home, fall in love, have a few kids, and move passed the things I did all in the name of freedom.

"Mister..."

Eighteen years later, I think about that day often. Is she alive? Did the boy join the local resistance? Did she have kids or forced into some arranged marriage outside of her control? More absurd, what if I had said yes? Would it have even been possible? I know I'll never know, but even now the questions plague me. Still, I hear the voice of the foolishly brave youth punctuated by the rhymey words that have caused me to lose sleep on more than one occasion.

Mister...

Mister?

Wanna buy my sister?