December 31, 2012 - The day had finally come, today would be the day we would be invaded. It was the day that could be my last day, ever. Sleep once again seemed to avoid me the previous night, my
mind would not allow my body to rest or maybe it was the near freezing temperatures we experienced, either way I could feel my body starting to shut down.
I looked down at my watch again, forgetting the battery died. I guess old habits never die. I’m guessing it is around 7:00am, since the sun is just beginning to rise. Once again my roommate is still fast asleep, I can tell he is becoming more and more worried as each day passes. Breakfast this morning was nothing short of a feast, we ate nearly a weeks worth of rations in one sitting. We were both preparing for the worst, and neither of us wanted to die on an empty stomach.
I looked at my roommate, he looked back at me with the same fear in his eyes he had been carrying with him these past few days. We had both just seen the same thing, the same person run across the street four hundred yards to our right, then another, and lastly one more. This was the beginning of the end.
I positioned myself on the far side of the clock tower closest to where we saw the men moments earlier. My roommate reached into his pack and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and handed one to me before putting his last one in his mouth. We both lit up at the same time and took a tremendous drag from our cigarettes. Our nerves slowly began to ease up. With my hands clenched tightly on the stock and my finger cautiously resting on the trigger, I awaited our visitors to show themselves. As my roommate sat beside me scanning the horizon for any sort of life, I noticed a glimpse of movement to my left. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment I relived the lessons I had learned, the moment where I realized if I had what it takes to take another mans life. My cheek rested on the stock as I focused my right on the scope, carefully scanning the street for the life I was about to take. After only a few seconds, the crosshairs of my scope were carefully placed on the mans chest, and I slowly began to apply pressure to the trigger, messing up this shot could mean life or death. The Remington 700 sounded off like a cannon as the rifle recoiled into my shoulder. Peering through the scope, I could see the man’s lifeless body laying on the street hundreds of yards below us. There was now one empty piece of brass on the ground, this would become the first of many.
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