Untitled

• Umar Khan, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2017

The room buzzed with laughter and chatter, as I sat silently in the corner, contemplating the day.
"Private Callaghan."
The formal register shook me to me senses. Looking up I saw the stone face of my unit commander.
"Yes sir'' I replied wearily, my thoughts still stuck on ...
''The incident today...”
The kids were bounding ahead of our patrol car. Our eyes and ears were on high alert. We were on a look out for any attack. This area had claimed many of our own already; but the kids were so buoyant, that all I could hear was the laughter of the children piercing the tense air. Their laughter was disturbed by a more urgent sound; my stomach's soft growl, as a waft of the concoction of sludge It's amazing what a hungry man will think of eating!
My hunger was shoved out of my mind, as I recognised a group of armed men lying in ambush ahead. But the children were oblivious to the fate that awaited them, as they continued ahead. I imagined Patrick, among the mob of children. Naive.
" ... I expect a full report" the Unit Commander continued.
"But, sir, can someone else do it? I - I don't know if ... “I urged.
"Everyone who witnessed the attack must write a report. And that includes you."
The unintended deaths were a horrible chain of events. They were caught in our crossfire, and stood no chance. Their fate was sealed before the first bullet was fired. Our windscreen wipers were no match for the splattered blood. We had blood on our hands. And it didn't belong to the enemy. The last screams of the children will never leave my ears.
I was shrouded in darkness; emotions that I had suppressed for so long came flooding out. The tears came naturally; as if a dam had been broken. Tears of sadness were unnatural to me, just as a smile was now going to be forever unnatural.
"Maybe we should deploy men here" mocked the Commander.
"Permission to speak, sir."
There was a deafening silence in the room.
"I thought that my deployment didn't include the murder of children." I continued.
"You were wrong - You don't need to do the thinking. You're deployed to kill. You take my orders. So, when I tell you to, you kill."
I could feel my hand shuffling to my holster. The adrenaline pumped through my body, as a bead of sweat swept down my face. My numb limbs were energised. I felt the coat of darkness lifting.
Was I really going to do this? Could I do this? Did I have the strength to do this?
My hand was quicker than my thoughts. Shoving the gun in his forehead, I placed my finger on the trigger.
"I was here to kill. Wasn't I randomly chosen to kill?"
The bottles stopped clinging. The jokes weren't told. And the laughter died out.