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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #1737177
This is a smple story to show how tragic war can be.
To the love of my life,
  It seems like yesterdaywhen I was just a little boy who was in love. I would always try to tell the girl I love how I felt about her. But I would always fail. I was afraid what would happen if you didn` t feel the same way. We were friends for as long as we could remember. I feared that my confesion could ruin our relationship. As our friendship grew it became harder to tell you.
  Until that one day you were the brave one and told me that you loved me. That was the happiest day that I ever had when I found that you loved me. When we pulled each other close and kissed. That joy I have never felt before. How good it felt as if it were a dream. I couldn` t sop smiling that day. The day when we promised that we would get married. How i carved a ring out of old wood as a sighn of our vowl to be one day married.
  Even when we got older our loved never grew weak. We still felt the same and our feelings grew even stronger. I was always happy with you. Time would just slow down as if the world would slow down for us so that we could spend more time together. Even when our friends teased us it didn` t matter. We loved each other and that was all that mattered.
  I never thought about another girl. I loved one and only one, and that is you. When Licoln became president we knew that war would come. Just because people own slaves dosen` t mean that the south is or it. Licoln simply used it to get into office. He is trying to rob us of our rights and beliefs. When I went to fight for our country it was a sad day. But I promised I would return.
  I grow weary of this war. I just simply want to return to you my love. To be happy, and protect that fading smile of yours.
                                                                Forever yours,

Sadly I can not say what comes next. I was not the one writing the letter. This was the last battle for this war we gave the northerns hell before we went down. But at what price? I found the letter stained with blood. Who ever wrote it died. He will never return to the one he loved. He thought for his country and died for a defeat. His love will never know what his final words were. Since there were no names, and no one knows who wrote it. He sholdn` t of died. I thought because I hoped for death. I have nothing in life. He had someone to live for yet he died. Why couldn` t God have took me instead. I never met the man But I woul die If it meant he could live. His life was filled with joy. My life is just a soul of sorrow. There is no jusitce in war and the price is always, and I do mean always never cheap. Loved ones are lost on both sides. It is a price that must be paid. Makes you wonder is war really worht it. Why can` t we just get along.
  Now if you don` t mind my time is up. The northerns are here with their guns, and I` m ready for death. I charge at them screaming with a knife in my hand. They react quick. There is a loud bang and I fall to the floor. I came for death and now I buy my desire. It` s painful but it feels good to die. This soul of sorrow can finaly pass on. I hope you enjoyed the story and that you remember the price of war.
© Copyright 2010 James Flow (ghoststar at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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