It isn't very much optimistic to talk about end at the very beginning, but if you would be in my shoe you would pray for this to end too.
I watch my bloody hands covered with mud through my blurry and vandalized vision.
Vandalized?
Yes, my sight is not the same as it was once. When everything I beheld was beautiful and filled every inch of my soul with admiration about this dazzling, and yet utterly fanatic world. Of course, at that time I was oblivious to the raging war beyond this world.
When you are taken away from your family against your will and compelled to leave behind everything that you once cared and loved for to fight a war? The view about the world you live in changes, circumstantially.
When someone hands you a gun at the age of seventeen, when you are supposed to hold flowers and chocolates? Your point of view changes.
I grew up believing in love, and now I'm living my adult life convincing myself probably people like us are never destined for love. Even the sight of a man is as rare as they say 'finding a needle in a haystack,' let alone think about loving a man.
We are the women with extraordinary qualities suitable for this job, or so they say.
They?
It is a long boredom to actually be familiar with the "they" everybody here just calls them that.
Let me spare you the gory details and tell a little about "they" and "us."
"They" are the Superior Intelligence Authority, no one knows who they are? But what they are. They monitor the extraterrestrial matters, a government organization formed right on our earth, to secure the galactic borders, and by that I don't mean the milky way. Somehow, we humans have managed to acquire the light years away territory and called it ours.
And "us" well we are we. We are a special task force of women trained to guard the border planets, and somehow miraculously or should I say horrendously the planet, T9 Caphil is only habitable to women. The atmosphere here doesn't accept anyone with a 'Y' in them. Why so? We don't know yet. As the female population never succeeded to bloom over centuries, we are even recruited from the past and brought into the future to become a soldier.
And you will be surprised to know the war that we are fighting is not against alien species, but the humans themselves.
It is sad that no one from my time knows about the wars of the future. The wars for lands and resources. It seems as if the history has repeated itself.
Humans never cease to crave, the saddest part, they haven't found a cure for cancer yet. The technology has developed majorly. The spacesuits and ships, vehicles and accessories, and of course the advancement of the weapons. But the poor are still a prey to starvation, and the homeless are still freezing on the streets. Before it was limited to earth, now it has expanded throughout the galaxies.
So that is all that we have achieved over the time with the vast knowledge of science and evolved technology. To wage wars.
The bullets shower around me, in frequent intervals. I lay still on the cold ground, away from my rifle. My body doesn't ache instead it's awfully numb, numb as if my senses are dead.
No. They aren't. They are perfectly fine. I can her the shower of bullets deafening me. I can see the blood on my hands and the muffled voices of cussing and grunting.
"There she is…," I heard someone from a distant, "… she needs immediate medical attention get the medic team."
The voice faded…
"Don't you hear me. Go, go now." And it impaled my ears again, with a higher pitch.
I cough up some fluid. No, it is blood. I'm coughing up blood. Am I going to die?
The thought of death embracing me relieved me for a really brief second, but then…
How can I die? I have barely lived.
Even in the situation like this you can't stop your mind from cooking up ridicule.
The fact of me dying felt as real as it frightened me.
I feel the footsteps marching at me with a stretcher. My heart pounded along with thudding of the boots against the dusty ground.
I smell blood, I see blood, and I taste blood. It tastes like metallic rust and salt.
"I can't get the pulse." One of the couple of heads hovering over me spoke.
"Quick get me those…" The other voice reached out for something.
Probably it was my cue to go deep into a slumber.
"Charge…"
"Clear…"
And a jerk on my chest, awakes me as my body jolts up and then limply falls back dead.
"Charge…" the voice was becoming familiar. Even while dying my training didn't wear off.
"Clear…"
A continuous beep rings in my head, and omnipresent luminous white light is all I could see.
I am not breathing, because I don't feel the sharp sensation smoothly going in and out of nostrils. Or my lungs stretching and relaxing.
So, has it ended?
I hope so.
It couldn't be so easy, it shouldn't. A bullet comes at me and simply gets through my heart is that it? Am I dead? All this sufferings and sacrifices meant so little. Is dying so easy?
You might be wondering if I am dying who is narrating the story?
Well, I did not die. Basically, I am immortal. My body dies not me.
I am preserved in a chamber where I am in the captive of some weird machine, which feeds me, and keeps me alive. When I am dead on the field it revives me, so I could wake up and suffer the same things over and over. Feel the same pain and do exactly the same thing. This time I beg to differ. This time I am not coming back to them. I'm going to a new place, fighting the same war but from a different side.
When I am revived, I probably won't remember anything because I formatted the saved progress.