You were new, never seen a second of war. Grave knew it’d ruin you. You were young, dumb, naive, but most importantly a bundle of joy. Always had a smile on your face, always friendly and bubbly. That was until your very first mission.

You saw blood and body parts fly past you. Most of the blood you were covered in wasn’t even yours. War broke you. Grabbed you and pulled you into a deep dark pit. You had never seen such violence in your life.

The mission was successful but so many of your friends died or blew up into itty bitty pieces. People who were good people. Who had families and friends. People who are now dead. Scattered somewhere in a battle field.

You sit silently in the back seat of the evac truck. Rethinking those seconds. Seconds. That’s all it took for someone’s life to end. Seconds. Only seconds. Seconds of bloodshed, seconds of death. You start to dislocate. The looks. Their eyes. Their dead dull eyes. Heads blown off. Brain matter and guts everywhere.

Graves looks at you in the rearview mirror. He always hated how bubbly you were but seeing this soulless look in your face made his stomach drop. He didn’t know what to do.