I limped on the soft grass, gun dragging through the dirt. I laughed into the night air. In all of my 16 years of life, I had never felt joy like this. The battle, they had won! I continued walking, the pain in my temples getting more and more unbearable. I could see all the other soldiers, yelling in triumph on the top of an eroded Virginia hill. Come on, I thought, I can make it up there... I hissed in pain as the bandages on my shin came loose, revealing a particulary nasty gunshot wound. But still, the flag, it was growing larger, I could see more and more of it, just 10 more yards..
But, even with all my willpower, a young man like myself with gunshot wounds in his shoulder and leg simply could not make it there. I groaned in pain, and collapsed, yet I refused to close my eyes even more for a moment just so I could stare at my country's flag, rippling in the wind, riddled with holes. The feeling of victory was surreal. A soldier throwing his hands in the air suddenly noticed me, and the proud grin he wore was wiped off his face. He ran over, the container of gunpowder bouncing off of his leg.
"Soldier! Are you alright?" He asked worriedly. He checked my wounds and a grim expression came over him. He knew I wasn't going to make it. But I didn't care, one death was nothing if this victory ended the war.
"We won.. We won, right?" I muttered, a stupid grin plastered on my face. He nodded. A swell of pride came over me. I helped in that.. I helped us win! I coughed, and a rivulet of blood dripped over my lip. The pain was getting far too intense for me to handle, and my mind blanked for a few moments. After this though, a numbness ensued, and my thoughts returned to me, though they came to me slowly, like they were forced to travel through molasses to reach me. "Hey... does this mean the war is over? That we can stop fighting?" I said thickly, blood filling my mouth. I smiled at him, like I knew the answer just had to be yes.
He looked at me with a thoroughly pained expression, and he looked away. "Yeah, buddy.. We won. The war is over." He choked, a tear running down his cheek and falling onto his worn pants. I turned my attention away from him, and to the flag, which represented the freedom I had fought for for the past year.
"That's nice," I whispered. My eyes glazed over, and the last thing I saw was the American flag, waving wildly in the night wind, standing tall infront of the stars that littered the black sky. That's nice...