In that moment,

you

don't

hear

anything.

Not the commotion around you, not your own gasps of air, not even the piercing scream of the terrified person in front of you.

You know you should be able to; heck, the way your heart is beating, you should be able to hear it crashing against your chest. But, you don't, you only hear the

screams

of

your

wild

thoughts.

I don't know what's worse, the deafening silence, or the horrific realization of what I'm capable of.

I'll tell you one thing about it that is very real. The thing that doesn't cut off is your vision. You see it, more than you'd like to;

you

see

everything.

Every tiny detail is etched into your mind so you can conveniently relive it every single hour of every single day.

It's not like a flicker, nor an off switch; it's like a gradual

dimming

of

the

light.

It happens slowly, like that one moment happened over the course of ten years. There's nothing for you to do but watch and wait for

total

darkness.

Oh yeah, you can rejoice too. You have a total of one thing to be grateful for, and that's the fact that it wasn't you on that side of the blade; not now anyways.

He's gone now;

gone

like

the

smoke

in

the

distance.

His death was my victory. What a
tragic thing to say. He was maybe a year younger than me. I'm only 20 myself; I have no business being in this uniform. I shouldn't be here in this place, and neither should he. We are both out of place, and it cost him his life.

Why

did

we

have

to

meet

under

these

circumstances?