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| Remember Everything; My Lost Literary Magazine Submission | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 22 2013, 08:27 PM (62 Views) | |
| ZeroDarkFlirty | Feb 22 2013, 08:27 PM Post #1 |
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ZeroDarkFlirty
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I meant to submit this a while ago, but here is my short work, "Remember Everything", I don't know if it's too late for submission, but if it isn't, Miss E, get this in the magazine! Remember Everything Operation Aurora Gulf of Oman January 20th, 2014 0400 hours It was supposed to be a simple mission, they said. It would be fine, they said. No one would get hurt, they said. Just sneak in, take down the target, and get out; no one will ever know you were there, they said. They lied. I wiped the sand and metal shards from my goggles as a flight of F-35 fighter jets roared overhead. Our platoon was originally assigned to HVT duty: Capture the High Value Target, get out alive. Simple as that. We had been tipped off by an anonymous source that the target was in a villa up ahead of us. My squad had pushed forward down they alleyway, and I was rear guard for the mission, which was basically the meat shield in the back of the squad in case someone snuck up on us. And if they did, I'd be the first to go. My grip tightened on my rifle as I walked backwards to catch up to my squad. Montes was peeking out of the alley, to the main street. "Any visual?" "Nada. Can't see jack from here." Matkovic got on the SatCom line. "Reaper 2-3, this is Misfit. You guys see anything from up there?" A sniper team signaled to us with a laser pointer from the top of a highrise apartment. I didn't need binoculars to see one of them shrug his shoulders. "Great, we're going in blind," muttered Jenkins, always the optimist. We proceeded down the street in a low crouch, sticking to low shrubs and fences for concealment. In the distance, in the direction of the fighter jets, a massive plume of fire erupted from the horizon. "Bravo Company's gettin' hammered out there. They were the diversion for us." "Jesus Christ...." "You said it, Jenkins." The low rumble of the landing force and the occasional sputter of distant gunfire filled our ears as we entered the first of the five houses. It was vacant, but not exactly empty. Furniture was piled against the windows and doors like a barricade, as if to prevent someone from getting in. The JDAM bomb that had hit the side of the house a few hours ago and let us in clearly didn't bother knocking. After clearing the first home, we moved across the street. This house was covered in dust both from the debris of its neighbor and from sheer age. We guessed no one had lived there in a while. We split up to cover the next two houses. I was with Jenkins; Montes and Matkovic went inside the adjacent house. There wasn't much to see. A few scattered home goods. A photograph of a family. The house was just as empty as the others. Jenkins spoke into his headset: "Uh, we're clear here. How about you guys?" "Oh, just lovely. Nothing here. Just like the others. We'll be out soon." We had started towards the door when a scream broke the silence: "JOHN! LOOK OUT!!!----" The house across from us seemed to shudder, as if for a second, then exploded, sending us flying backwards into the dining room. Debris flew sky-high, and a small mushroom cloud formed over the wreckage. Jenkins dusted himself off, then ran off into the street in some sort of rage. He cried to deaf ears: "JOHNNY! BEN!! NOOO!!! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BASTARDS?! SHOW YOURSELVES! COME OUT AND FIGHT ME! NOBODY KILLS MY FRIENDS AND LIVES!!" He started firing his rifle erratically into a nearby building, crying and yelling at the same time. He threw the soon-empty weapon to the ground, and he followed suit, curling up in a rather miserable heap on the gravel. I approached the wimpering body and put a hand on its shoulder, reassuring its owner. "Lee, it's....it's over. We gotta go, man." "Don't you GET it, Blackburn? They were here with us five minutes ago, and now...now these BANDITS killed them! Don't you have EYES?!!" "I do," I relpied solemnly,"but I also have a heart. And it knows that Johnny and Ben wouldn't want this either. But they'd want us to go on. Get up, Lee." I helped him up, and we said a silent prayer for the two of us who had perished that night. We both stared at the final house, and reluctantly moved in. We cleared the first floor, rifles peeking around corners, searching for our the man who killed our friends. I felt my grip on the rifle tighten with every corner I rounded. Vengeance had become my sole desire. It came down to a final room on the second story. Jenkins and I gathered near the closed door, getting ready to breach. Behind this door, if intel proved right, was a murderer. A man who killed innocents and soldiers alike. Without discrimination. Without remorse. He was more machine than human. He operated without sympathy for the fallen. He killed not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Bloodlust consumed him. He was the target, and he was going to die. Tonight. "Ready?" "Ready." Jenkins and I kicked the door down in unison, heading into the room with ready weapons, glaring down our sights for our target. Nothing. The room was empty. There was no man with a detonator, no smile behind a bandana, no soldier with a gun. Just a mirror. It was placed in the center of the room, pointed towards the door. I stared at my reflection. "Misfit, this is Reaper 2-3, have you found the target?" I did not reply. "Misfit, come in, over?" I spoke in bursts, my voice quivering. "Reaper...this is Misfit...target has been...identified." "Can you confirm the kill?" I acted unconsciously. I unhooked my combat vest, throwing it to the floor. Jenkins didn't know what to make of me. I grabbed my riifle, ejected the magazine, and let the bullets clatter off of the adobe brick. I dropped the weapon to the ground. I drew my pistol and did the same. The handgun fell, harmless, to the space below my feet. My knife was last. I threw the blade into the floor, where it stayed, the blade an inch into the adobe. "Misfit, has the target been killed, over?" Dropping my helmet, I spoke into the headset. "Affirmative. Target...is neutralized." I stood in the doorway for a long while, my body casting a shadow over the instruments of death splayed across the floor, now harmless pieces of metal. But most of all, I looked into the mirror and saw a man. Not a killer. Not a soldier. Not a bringer of sadness, pain, and suffering. A man. This man would go home to his family in the coming months. His daughter and wife would be more than glad to see him. He'd hold his family in his arms, thanking someone that they gave their life so he could live his. There would come a day when his daughter would ask him a question. "Daddy...what was it like, you know, in the war?" He could never answer that question. Instead, he would kiss his daughter's cheek, and tell her how much she mattered to him. How much he cared. How much he loved her. And with the hands that took so many lives, broke so many hearts, caused so much pain... He'd hold his daughter close, and cry. Cry for those who had perished. Cry for those he had killed. Cry for how much he wanted to take it all back. To undo every action. To make right everything he made wrong. To go to the families of those he had slain and tell them how sorry he was. Sorry that he stole away a life he had no right to. Sorry that he caused them to suffer. Sorry that, in the heat of the moment, he failed to make the right decision. His daughter would try to calm her father, try to reassure him. "It's okay, daddy...it's okay...." We can't always make the right choices. We can't always choose our fate. We don't always have everything happen the way we want it to. We feel sorrow because we feel regret. We feel regret because of our actions. We cry because we long to see there be happiness. When life itself seems to be our enemy, we must do one thing: Remember. We must remember the good times in our lives. The times we laughed with friends. The times we spent with family. Our first love. Hatred cannot drive out hatred, only love can do that. Pain cannot drive out pain, only happiness can do that. Regret cannot drive out regret. To mend our hearts, We remember everything. Edited by ZeroDarkFlirty, Feb 22 2013, 08:28 PM.
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5:34 PM Jul 10