1865

Gunshots ring in the air. The ground groans beneath me.

This isn’t anything new.

This ash gray sky, these bodies, their pasty fingers grabbing my uniform as I step on them in return. This is an old sight, one my mind will never be rid of.

“Water… water…please.” A confederate soldier lays on the ground, a gaping hole for his stomach. He couldn’t be more than fifteen. A boy. A boy like me, dragged into this war, believing he could somehow make a difference.

“Water…” He repeats.

I aim my musket and fire.

Die.

The sound echoes numbly through my body like thousands of times before.

Become a corpse. It’s easier than stepping over one.

I continue walking.

Dark clouds roll above. It will rain soon.

“George?”

My blood freezes.

“George?”

My eyes dart across the battlefield.

It can’t be. After all this time.

The voice belongs to a soldier slumped against a dead tree.

His face is almost identical to mine, just a year and a half older.

“Long time no see.” He croaks.

I stand there, my boots frozen to the ground.

He smirks, his blond hair plastered with blood and sweat. “So Yankee, gonna kill me now or what? Though I’m pretty much as good as dead.”

For the first time I notice the pool of blood that surrounds him. Thick and dark.

A thump lodges itself in my throat.

“I’ve missed you.” I say.

He gives a raspy chuckle. “You were the one who left.”

“You could’ve come with me.” I say half heartedly.

He presses into the wound at his side. “Yeah right, Our parents would’ve been pissed if I joined the Union. And besides, that Lincoln guy is annoying.”

My mouth tilts up into a small smile. He always did have the stupidest reasoning.

A wet punctured cough rattles his entire body. Blood drips from his chin. My smile fades.

“So, what made you want to witness my final moments?” He wipes the blood from his mouth.

My hands ball into fists, knuckles bulging white. “That’s not funny.”

He chuckles softly, then winces. “Guess not. I was never one for appropriate humor.”

I step forward, finally able to move again. “That’s for sure.” I slide down the tree, dead bark scraping against my back.

I try to ignore the blood that soaks through my pants.

He smiles. “Especially that one time I convinced you to act like a puppy with me for an entire day. Mom dropped her blueberry pie and we licked it up off the floor until she started whacking us with the broom.”

I smile, trying to recall the smell of that day, the sweet sugary blueberry that stuck to my hands. But I can’t. The smell of blood is too strong. “Yeah, or whenever you got mad when people would mistake me for the older one. You’d threaten to kill them if they got it wrong a second time.”

“Except I was actually serious.”

I give a small laugh. “You definitely were.”

Silence stretches between us as the sound of gunshots fade in the distance.

“You know I got married to Ashley.”

I stare at him.

“What’s with the face?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, she’s just way out of your league.”

“SHE IS NOT!” He yells, then succumbs to another coughing fit. “I’m a good looking guy ok?” He rasps. “She couldn’t help but fall for me.”

“Well she must have, if she married you, unless you forced her by gunpoint.”

“Haha.”

A cannon booms in the distance.

“You know, I was kinda hoping I’d grow old with her, raise a family and live on the farm until I died. But I guess I’m ok with this too. Serves me right for all the men I killed. And it’s not half bad having you here listening to me drone on.”

“Gee thanks.”

He shakes his head, staring at all his blood. “This is not what I signed up for.” He whispers.

I look around at the battlefield. All these people. All these hopes and dreams. Dead. “None of us did.”

He leans his head back, staring at something I can’t see. “I just wish my death would mean something you know? Even if our side has pretty much lost. I don’t want to be another forgotten Confederate that the world will soon learn to hate. Is it stupid to want that?”

“Yes.”

He nods his head. “Thought so.”

The pool of blood continues to grow bigger.

“I wish we were still at the farm, laying in the fields, watching the clouds change shapes, maybe even licking up some of Ma’s pie.”

I smile at the thought. “Me too.”

He leans his head on my shoulder, like I did to him when we were kids.

“I’m sorry…” He says. The light in his eyes begins to flicker like a candle about to be snuffed out.

“For what?” I already know what he’s going to say.

“For that day. Those things I said, I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I know.”

He cracks a smile, his lips stained with red. “After this, let’s go back, to Ma and Pa, to the farm, to the sun. Let’s go back ok?”

I smile. “Okay.”

He sighs contentedly, then his breath stills.

The weight on my shoulder doesn’t change. He’s still warm, so I can pretend, at least just for a little longer, that he’s asleep. Tired. That we aren’t on this bloodsoaked battlefield, we’re at home, lying in the sweet grass, the sun warm on our faces.

I close my eyes trying to remember, to hold onto the memories. Because eventually they’ll fade away. Everything does.

A single drop of rain falls onto my face and trails down my cheek.

I should probably go and find my squadron. Gunshots stopped hours ago.

But I want to stay here a little longer with Edmund. My older brother. My best friend.

The rain starts falling faster now. It’s cold. Dark. And I’m alone.