the color red

Machines don't bleed. Holding a gun over your shoulder for eighteen hours isn't exhausting until you have to use it. They never told me that the blood would exist in my dreams. Now I lye awake typing this letter , my last letter to my son and the sweat on my face isn't from the fact that I know I'm dying, its from the fact that I will have to kill another to die in honor. Tomorrow I will face my general and lay down my life for the preservation of my soul. Meanwhile back at home a soldier's son paces the floor…

"Why am I being held responsible for your actions? You see this?" Tom took the red crayon from the wide eyed two year old and pointed to the wall. "Maybe we can hide it with a picture frame." Stephanie grabbed her little brother defensively and gave him back his pack of crayons. " You're a mean babysitter!" Do you honestly think that I want to be here?" Tom asked the girl as he picked up the shovel. "I could just bury you right now and I bet your mother wouldn't even miss you. Guess what, you where adopted! " I hate you. I'm ten years old, you can't tell me ANYTHING." "Oh yeah? Hey Seth …Tom reached down to the little toddler and handed him a garden pick." Want to dig a hole?" "My parents are going to hear about this". Stephanie flipped her hair and rain up the stairs. "You say your dad's in the army? Why don't you just go join the war and leave us alone? She shouted down the steps and locked herself in the bathroom.

Tom looked down at his deformed leg that was disguised very well under his jeans and headed to the front door. The toddler pulled at his pants as Tom hollered looking back—"Dumb kids like you are the reason why God created condoms". Come on Seth, this wont have to be a very big hole…---He's dead. They told the family that he died quickly, painlessly. Sometimes a lie is better than the truth, Now a mother back home is just getting the news and she is wondering where her son is. Why is he gone so late? ---Toms phone rings. The hole in the ground is keeping the little one busy. "What? I can't hear you, hello?—He's what? The world stands still. His eyes go blank. He can't hear anything. The pain in his heart is overwhelming. He doesn't notice the little one wandering towards the street. He doesn't see Stephanie coming across the lawn. He's dead. Tom picks up the shovel and looks at the girl. He can't contain his anger. Why do some idiots live and good people die? His hands grip the handle. Thoughts cross his mind and he dosnt think before he acts. There's a scream. It will only take a minute he tells her. It will be our little secret. There's a screech in the road. A woman is crying and she cant believe what has happened. The blood of the child is on the window, the tires. It will be in her dreams. Stephanie gasps in horror. Three hours later…"Tom your home?" Yeah. I don't want to talk right now. He took off his shirt and locked himself in his room. He thought about what he had done. He looked down at his leg and remembered the girl's reaction as he put down the shovel and lifted up his pant leg to show her. She gasped at the deformity before her and couldn't believe what Tom had said. "No one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes." He was sorry for yelling at her. She touched his arm and accepted his apology. She knew he must be really hurting inside.—The lady in the street jumped out of her car and cried when she saw what was in the middle of the road. It was just a cat. She looked across the lawn to see a teenage boy run after the toddler just grabbing him before he hit the road. The child waved at her, spilling his box of red crayons onto the grass as he, the boy, and the young girl walked back into the house. That was the only time in her life that she was glad to see the color red.