47
Guilt tugged on the strings of my heart. I could not shake the feeling away. After all, a kid killed himself underneath me. Even when I try to tell myself all is fair in love and war, and it was war, so it was fair, the lump in my throat only got bigger.
Because he was a sibling, a son and a friend to someone out there, they might have been hoping for his return, and he was never going to return.
That was what moved me to get his whistle. It was certainly important to him, after all he was their leader here. He must have felt important using the whistle. And if I carried it, I would be certain not to forget him, at all.
"His whistle.. it's gone."
"Huh?"
My eyes searched the faces of the guards.
"Dir anybody pick up a wooden whistle? You would recognize it instantly." My voice came out sounding panicked.
That did the trick because they turned to each other.
"None of us did."
I breathe shakily.
