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The stench of death followed us even after we left the battlefield. It was almost like it got soaked into our very beings. Or it could just be that we were all covered in blood, dirt, and sweat. Maybe just that.
In any case, I was more than happy to leave the pile of dead bodies behind. Just thinking about all the lives we took made my stomach turn. Especially when I remembered the face of my kill. The life I stole.
I shuddered and pushed the memory down. Deep, deep down, locking it in an imaginary box that I buried far away in my conscious. I couldn't afford to feel guilty. I couldn't let myself think about what I’d actually done. It would destroy me. Pretending it hadn't happened and running away from the problem was so much easier.
So I just focused on placing one foot in front o
