The Death of a Soldier
The wind blew at the graveyard; the vast emptiness seemed to swallow everything as that ominous presence of death filled the air like some intoxicating aroma. It was entirely empty; there was absolutely nobody at the graveyard except for one lonely teenager whose life had become so blank he couldn’t figure why he lived anymore. His life was a war zone in which he would either do combat with his friends and family or himself. He was an unsung soldier who was in the middle of an unsung war that gets looked over in society, the war of the mind.
This soldier’s name was Leo. Leo had lost all meaning in his life, he was very lonely and was extremely glum. He had grown tired of living, tired of fighting and tired of trying to make everybody happy and living a lie. Leo’s mind raced with millions of thoughts as he waltzed through the desolate wasteland of decaying flesh and damned dead. He couldn’t believe that his life had come to this, a stroll through the only company that seemed to understand him, the dead.
The smell of death and decay slid through the dirt and filled up his nostrils, each molecule granting him a whiff of that pungent abomination of an aroma. At first, the smell bothered him, it caused him to gag and get disgusted but he was already used to it. This had been maybe his tenth or twelfth time in this foreboding place. The smell normally wasn’t there but new graves were being made and cadavers had to be removed. Out with the old and in with new as they say. That’s just how the turkey cooked as Leo said.
Leo’s shoes clattered against the cobblestones of the graveyard’s pathways. Roots to the dead were what they looked like. The opposite of a family tree, more like a death tree. Each statue had either a religious deity on top of the tombstone or a religious item such as a crucifix that was on the mausoleums that surrounded the place. Leo, though glum, had an admiration for statues and carvings. They always appealed to him because it was simply amazing to imagine the labor and craftsmanship involved in the creation of such gothic beauty.
An unmarked grave towards the center of the graveyard there was no body there was no coffin, nothing. This was the spot for him to lie down and die. Leo bent down on his knees and turned around with his back towards the tombstone. Leo had a few pictures of his loved ones, ranging from his mother and stepfather to his wife, sister and daughter. He looked down at his left wrist where a special silver chain was worn like a bracelet. He loved that little piece of metal because of who gave it to him. Of course he wouldn’t be able to look at all these things and not cry.
A tear welled up his left eye, then his right. His clear vision fogged up due to the water that was developing. When Leo closed his eyes, two tears came crashing down his face in an avalanche of emotion. He began to sniffle and felt spiritual pain in his heart. The teen grabbed at his chest with his right hand, thrusting it into the bone and squeezing as if to grab his heart and stop it from hurting so much. Sadly enough though, his woes would not cease.
The unsung soldier cried into his hands for a few more minutes before wiping away his tears and reached into his pocket. A small piece of paper that read “GOODBYE” was placed next to him. He taped it down so the wind wouldn’t blow it away. Shortly afterwards, his chubby little hands began searching through his jacket in which he pulled out something that wasn’t too heavy. It was a six-shooter, a revolver. His hands trembled at the feeling of the cold weapon in his hands, the feeling of a death-bringer at his fingertips.
Leo held the magnificent weapon and ran his fingers along it, feeling every inch of it. His index finger pushed the side where the ammunition belonged and he looked at how empty it was except for one spot that wasn’t empty; a hole that held a bullet. This bullet would end it all. This bullet would free him from his pain. He stared down the barrel of the gun. The dark barrel seemed to stare right back at the troubled teen. It called to him and begged to feel him. Something it would soon have.
Leo cried a little bit more and opened his mouth, bringing the callous weapon into his mouth, aiming up towards his brain. Since it was cold outside, the weapon absorbed that icy chill and transferred it to Leo’s lips. He simply looked at his pictures and necklace and uttered the words “I love you. Goodbye”. And pulled the trigger. His finger pulled the trigger and sent one bullet strait up into his brain. It broke the skull, penetrated the brain and came out the other end. Leo’s blood was splattered all over the empty grave as the gunshot rang out in the grave. He was dead, and completed the death of a soldier.
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