I woke up. I guess I had never really been asleep. My eyes were open, my body moving, reacting, but I was in a daze. The last shell seemed closer than the rest. It’s difficult to judge the distance anymore. I can barely hear the explosions, yet I feel the pressure waves pound on my chest and push in my ear drums.

It reminds me of the marching bands going by during the parades back home. A small town with a small life. A dot on a map most people would never see. That was where I belonged.

I remember leaving – telling Mom I needed to see the world. My father said it was honorable. I finally felt like he was proud of me. I wanted to be something more than that small town.

I’ve never felt more insignificant than I do out here. This is not what I left for. This isn’t the world I wanted to see. I’m not more than I was. I’m just hollowed machine with a weapon glued to my hands.

I never thought it would be so cold in the summer. It was warm back home, always warm. I wish I could feel it again. Anything…