I wake up, as my eyes open to the blinding view of the sun, scratching the ceiling of the sky. In the distance, parts of the sky are choked by the thick and puffy ashes and smoke, which was the beaconing of sheer blood, and cold war.

            I grip my cold uniform. Representing South Vietnam was no joke. We didn’t want war, but America insisted.

            I greeted my fellow mates, and turned back to my base, unaware that it would be my last time laying my eyes on my warm, and thick concrete-walled home. I stepped on cold mud, sweating through the biting cold.

Looking up at the horizon, filtered by tears that distorted what was around me, I clutched my pump-action ever so tightly as I could feel the metal designs write themselves on my hard and dry skin. A sense of patriotic pride inflated my chest, as I looked down to the curly and half burned picture of my mother, clutching me at my infancy. The wind blew slightly, knocking me back into reality, as the picture slowly crumpled into my fists before me. This is who I was. I was going to stop the War, before any of my family, my friends, or my ancestors would get any more wounded. I once again stared at the horizon, as it stared back as if goading me to step forward and fight for my country.

I sighed.

I was interrupted by the incongruous sound of a scratchy voice from our cold and filthy radio. I continued to move my feet repetitively, and it slowly dawned on me that I was in war. The shrill sound of deadly gas escaping its shells, the quiet and lethal click of the gun, as the patriotic American took aim at one of my childhood friends.

It seemed as if I was living in the past, as it took years for me to register seconds of reality. The cold American’s hand seemed to move in slow motion as he pulled the trigger without a second thought.

            Like a tap dancer to the drum, my childhood brother flew to the rhythm of the bullets. I felt a fresh and warm tear drip down my icy cheek, like a drip of water rolls down the spine of a leaf.

            I ran, as the beast inside me slowly tore out. I stole the lives of three without even realizing, as anger became my guiding emotion, fueled by fear. However, the monster slowly faded out, as the adrenaline racing through my boiling blood simmered down. I looked to my right, as I saw the dry metal of a rifle aim at my chest. My ears began to ring, my eyes began to water, I grew a sixth sense that told me I was near the end.

            I pleaded Time for more, and we bargained for seconds. I looked up at the sky, as my pale skin began to feel the wispy air. Light slowly faded into darkness, and life steadily became death. The click of the gun.

             I woke up, as I could feel the freezing and numbing air attack me, like ants on a corpse. The wind blew to the left, and I could see the whisper-thin and delicate calendar play to the beat of the wind. I put my hand on the crisp paper, as I could see in dark and faded chalk the day I was living in. Today was draft day.