𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. you know that you could have done better. that the mission could have gone so much better. there’s something in the back of your mind that tells you, you could be so much better. that nobody should have died, that nothing should have happened. that you should have been better. there’s another piece of you that tells you that you shouldn’t feel this way. that you are barely a sixteen, that this should not be your fault, but it is. you are stuck in this war, have grown up in it, have lost friends to it. and there’s no way of stopping it, there’s no way that you can change it, there’s no way to stop it either. you are stuck here, forced to play it out in the war, forced to be a soldier. you know that you could run, that you could move to scotland with someone in your family, but you know you won’t. not when your friends and family stick behind. you shake your head, trying to school your feelings, and your thoughts into an organized matter, into making sure that mary doesn’t see the anger that simmers under your skin, ❝ that’s good to know, ❞ you shake your head now, moving to hide your wand now, ❝ i’ll take into consideration, for next time. is that enough for now? ❞