Despite the harsh conditions of the environment I was in, I kept on dragging my limp body. One person running here, one person running there, it was chaotic everywhere and I was amidst it.
Screams were present everywhere; but, I knew I couldn't do anything about it. Whether they were the brave soldiers, who kept pushing forward, or the poor children residing down the street's orphanage, I wasn't able to do anything and I asked myself one question:
"Why am I so weak. Worthless! Useless and blind?"
Despite my self-doubts no one answered. Heck, did a single person even truly care?
I lived my life trying to fulfil an empty purpose. Once drafted I truly believed maybe I could change for the better. This one decision however seemed to just push me further down.
In my final moments, I recalled the memories of me flushing down the heavy liquids down my throat to cope with the horrors.
Maybe death really was the only thing left for me.