Kill Or Not To Kill?

• May Gu, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2012

On my fifteenth birthday, I was given a knife and told to kill someone.
My fingers closed around the cold hilt, and I was unable to meet the Someone’s eyes. There was really no question of refusing – I was a loyal citizen of the city, with the fierce fire of patriotism burning eternally in my heart. Plus, well, the soldiers with the guns.
The Someone had a lean build, black pants, a shirt. They were drenched in blood. His blood. They’d tortured him, gotten all the information, and now they wanted to secure my uncompromising loyalty. That was why they’d given me a knife. They wanted me to wash my hands in the enemy’s blood, as if that would somehow make me a better warrior. Fiercer. Tougher. A fanatic.
“Hurry up.”
The soldiers were getting impatient. Maybe they were already beginning to doubt my loyalty. The guns’ muzzles glared at me accusingly. I swallowed hard. If I just hurried up and slit this guy’s throat, I’d get a pat on the back and a free pass to go home. Celebrate my birthday. Eat cake. All with the death of this guy hanging over my head. Oh, man.
“Do it.”
My head snapped up. Big mistake. The guy was a teenager, like me. Maybe a year older. His ghost-coloured eyes were calm and unflustered, despite the threat of his imminent death, the encouragement still fresh on his lips. He must’ve been in pain, but he didn’t show it. I was impressed, which made me mad. Now it would be harder to slit his throat.
“Do it,” he repeated. “They’ll kill you if you don’t.”
I scowled. Was that supposed to make the decision any easier? Selfless people always gave me headaches, because they were just so, well, selfless.
No duh, Sherlock.
I readied the knife, holding it in a steadier grip, the way I’d been taught. The Someone gazed at me, and there was no fear, just raw courage and knowledge – knowledge borne from experience; experiences no teenager should have.
I can’t do this.
The truth hit me like a grenade and exploded in my face. My breathing was fast, panicked, erratic, mimicking my thoughts. The soldiers shifted closer, as if they sensed my indecision, and, fuelled by adrenaline and fear, I ran.
For some reason they didn’t shoot straight away, but hey, I wasn’t complaining. The hard-packed dirt rippled into lush grass, huge trees greeting me with boughs decked in green, and still I ran. It was amazing man could screw up such a beautiful place with their thirst for power. And then I met a cliff. Below was a dizzying drop, vanishing into thundering water, foaming and roaring, as fierce as a lion. I tried to back up, but the soldiers had caught up, dragging the Someone along, who was almost unconscious.
“Kill him and we will spare your life,” the captain ordered harshly.
There was really only one option.
I jumped.