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Killing takes a toll on the mind

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Killing now a days is so much different from the killing I did during war. In war you shoot at faceless enemies. You don't know there stories, their families, their life. None of that matters to you. All you know is that it is him or you. But now, back home, nothing is the same. You talk with people, you learn there stories, you might even get to learn about there family. Worst of all is when you don't get to talk to them. You see them, and you know that they will hurt you but you don't want to hurt them. You look through the scope. You see there eyes, their scars, their wedding ring and you understand them more than you understand yourself. You pull the trigger fully aware that you are the reason that all of that no longer matters. After the shot rings out there is dead silence, and all you can focus on is the horror that you have just created. You silently mourn the man you have never really met, but know him as a brother. You know that you must carry on, but he will follow you for the rest of your life and he waits for you to meet the same fate to welcome you back home.

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