Sierra Dianas. Thoughts flooded my mind as I clutched the gun harder and harder. I faced an atrocious, inescapable decision. A war befell in my head, a death match between my consciousness and my fear. As one callously stabbed the other, the tip of my finger pressed harder against the trigger.
Time was ticking. I shut my eyes as I hoped to disconnect the vision of a girl slouched in front of me, so defenceless yet so fearless. Her face wasn’t completely visible but judging by her figure she was no more then 15. She showed no fright, demonstrating her disgust towards bowing down to the rebels: she remained her posture straight and her head help up high. She looked down upon us even though she was the one on the floor. Her face captured complete hatred. Her attempts to resist were hopeless as two older men forced her down onto the ground. Her arms were tied behind her back so any chance of action towards escape was restricted.
I bit my battered lip to remind myself of what I face if I disobey my master’s orders again: agonizing inexorable pain. I pressed harder against the trigger. My vision started to blur and lose its focus and my swollen eyelids did not help.
I tried to slay these monstrous thoughts invading my brain, telling me to shoot her and spare myself the pain. I pressed harder. I tried to stop devilish thoughts terrorising my brain with illusionary words but no success: l pressed harder.
My consciousness whispered in my ear but the demon inside my soul drowned it heartlessly in my homesick sorrow. The silence waited to be heard. I pressed harder. The trigger clicked. A loud profound bang pierced through the air as the bullet fired cogently. I could hear my sanity slip away, all in the space of