Her whole body trembles as tears swell in her eyes. She looks down at the body in front of her. This was the man I killed. It had been so easy too. One second he was a man with a family and a future, a single pull of the trigger later, he’s just a corpse, his only future to rot.
I look at the widow, tears streaming from her uncomprehending eyes.

I am a monster.

Part of me fights back against this assessment. I did what I had to. There was no other choice. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that, the facts are still the same. I killed somebody. I pulled a trigger, and all at once, I ended one life and shattered another.

I am a monster.

She looks on, almost fearfully, as they close the casket and fold up the flag that had been resting on it. They hand her the flag with a sad salute.
I wake up with the image of the widow still in my eyes and only one thought in my head.

I don’t want to be at war anymore.

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