Be careful when you fire a bullet-
Because you can never take it back.
It was advice they had all heard when they first became soldiers- when they first handled a gun- when they first started training. Some started younger than others- some handled guns as children- some were grown adults before they ever felt the cold metal, the kick of the blast, the caress of the gunpowder. Some would say they were born with a gun in their hands. That, once they picked up a gun for the first time, they just knew it was what they were born to do. Aralei was none of these people. She had never in her life handled a gun. Never, in her life, had she ever fired a shot. In fact, she had never even so much as struck another human being. She was a pacifist to the core, which is why what happened was, besides tragic, terribly ironic.
A battle. A fight. Something that those involved surely felt was important- that every last bullet they fired (and there were hundreds) was important. That each bullet had a specific mission- to strike the enemy. To secure the payload. Every single one of them felt that those bullets were well spent. And usually, they’d be right. Overwatch was always so good about clearing out civilians during a firefight. They were the good guys, after all. They were supposed to protect the innocent. So, whose bullet was responsible....for the young woman who lay dying on the ground?
****
Aralei lay against the wall, hands pressed to her side, breathing in shallow, rapid gasps. She was covered in blood- her own blood- and she could barely move. ...She had heard the gunshots from nearby, and tried to run. But apparently, she hadn’t run fast enough. After all, who can outrun a bullet? Certainly not some small, unassuming, average girl.
She had always viewed her city as so safe. There wasn’t any gang activity, and she had never been too afraid to walk home alone. ....and yet, she had somehow.... She was going to die. Her free hand reached for her cell phone, which had been flung far away from her when she fell. If she could just reach it, she could call for help. If she could just....
She couldn’t reach. Her arm collapsed as she lost the energy to keep trying. *** Was this really it for her? A pacifist, a gentle soul, killed by a stray bullet at such a young age? Some innocent young woman, surrounded by shopping bags full of fresh vegetables...and her own blood? Was this, then, a well-spent bullet? Even if had taken out an enemy- even if it had secured the payload. Was it worth it?
@die-once-more
