Autor:    Cristian Buelvas Fabra

SOLDIER

One, two, three, hundreds of arrows fall around me, my companions fall. Arrows pierce mercilessly, there is no armor, we are soldiers.

The dry leaves of the forest are stained with blood. Pain, crying, anger, strength. The terror does not stop, arrows and arrows continue to fall, their sharp points sound breaking everything, breaking us.

The enemy is heard closer and closer.

—Hold on, brother, hold on.

I take refuge behind a tree. Angry screams.

—I´m going to leave.

—We´re going —Anastasio says.

—We´re leaving, friend.

—Run! —Anastasio yells.

And he falls, cries, an arrow in his neck.

—Brother, calm down, you´re going to be fine!

—Run.

—I am not going to leave you.

I try to pick him up and he pushes me away hard with his arm.

—Run, brother.

He does not breathe. His gaze to the heavens.

It hurts, it hurts, I feel the emptiness.

I run, I jump, I fall, I run, I run.

The dry branches creak.

The breeze is chilly. In the distance I see them walking exhausted. We are all exhausted. I am alive.

I close my eyes, I feel the field.

Why did I have to stay? Why did I have to die? I don´t want to die like this.

Everything hurts.

I never wanted to be a soldier, it´s war, who can choose? The war that takes away freedom, everything. But it comes to you, and there is your family, and you have to protect them, who can choose?

Fight, kill, for your family, the future, it is better to think of it that way.

A great cavalry approaches.

Everything goes down.

Their flags… are our allies.

They pass quickly.

What if someone saw me run? We were lost. I was going to die.

They will not forgive me. They are going to behead me. I can´t go back. I can´t go home. If they saw me they kill me, and they end up my family. Damn, I can´t take it, I can´t take it anymore!

Three months have passed. The beer tastes bitter to me sitting on this oak bench. Being in this seedy tavern, thousands of leagues from my town and my family, is horrible.

One day I will return. I hope it will be soon. I want to see you, my beloved, and my children.

I must get gold and silver and take my family where I can give them a splendid future.

Something I have gathered, but I must get much more. I must kill many more, I must end every thug of these towns; its inhabitants are very grateful to me.

Few men have a sword in this place and don´t know how to use it like I do, so the business is mine alone.

—Soldier —a man behind me tells me.

He places a hand on my right shoulder. I turn around and find that it is the butcher, who is covered in blood as always.

—Some pigs were stolen from me last night.

—Many?

—Four.

The butcher shows me the payment.

—Done.