scrr
She turned the rusted unclean knob of the sink, and cold water sporatically poured out. She look at her self in the mirror, then back to her hands. As she set her hands under the water, she saw the blood start to wash off. The memories of her life before today swirled down the drain in the gas station bathroom. She tried to picture who she was before this, but all she could do was scrub.
As he started out over the deserted village, the site of scattered bodies made his stomach church. Brave. He had been sent to stop the genocide in a country where words like "brave" didn't exist.
Brave. He gagged profusely at the site.
He had hidden in the fields.
"Brave"
The word drowned in the bile that dribbled down his chin.