One day out of many

We were out chasing rabbits, the mist curling over the dew-encrusted hills, early morning light bouncing through the trees so we had to squint to see where to point our guns.

You're my reminder, as always; there are still days when my mind fogs over.
Like waterlogged fields
Never clearing, never draining.

The men watched as we stumbled; feet catching on the numerous cavities scattered over the field while we ran, our hands becoming covered. Mud sticks, so does circumstance. Something I would soon find out.

Breath streamed away from our mouths, pooling in the air around us. The loudness of the guns' bangbangbang made you jump; momentarily I could have sworn you actually left your skin – it seemed so wrinkled afterwards, as if you’d stayed too long in the bath. Your eyes wide, hair on end. Frightened.

I laughed, my teeth glinting in the sunlight. When I composed myself you weren’t there.

We found you some metres away from where I was standing. Breath was sucked in, sharply. I marvelled at how little blood there was, considering the amount of holes I managed to count before father dragged me away. Gun, snatched from my hands. Tossed to one side. Anger crowded around me, palpable in its intensity.

Immediately, I wanted to swap places, to be lying on the ground instead of you. I envied you, jealous of the attention you were receiving.

bastardbastardbastardbastard whispered under breath.

Will you forgive me? Can you?