For the King

My body is broken.  Arrows flew like a blackened swarm of rain, as if 1,000 dragon’s teeth were pulled, ground sharp, and fixed to a shaft that would fly swift.  The sudden bite of a well placed arrow is like being punched by a knife.  The first hit my shoulder.  It struck so hard it broke through my armor.  Bits of my own metal when deep into my muscle and bone along with that sharp arrow.   I saw the hot read of my own blood spray the splintered wood of my impalement.  I tried to grab it, to break it off, to keep fighting along side the other soldiers, but it was excruciating.  My lungs found the courage to yell, “For the king!”  but the next wave of arrows found us all.  One found my head.  The sound of the bone in the skull cracking, is a unique sound, especially when heard from inside the head.  With a bright flash behind my eyes I was dead.  The yelling of soldiers, the warmth of the sun, the feel of dirt and mud on my skin, was all gone in an instant.  I never felt the impact of my body hitting the ground.

Dying perhaps, is best explained like falling asleep, and never waking up.  There I was, dreaming, or existing in the afterlife.  Surrounding were a blur, there was just a stone bench, in a park.  I sat down, and noticed a young boy playing with a puppy.  He looked at me and the dog ran off.

“Where are your parents?”

“Not here yet, My name is Sammy!”

Pleased to meet you Sammy.”

“Your heads got blood.”

“Oh yeah, I was a soldier in a great war, the King asked me to take the front lines, and win the battle, but I was killed.  Took an arrow right in the head.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t I was proud to die, because I was fighting for my country,my King, and my beautiful wife Bathsheba…”

“Wow, that’s my Momma’s name, and my dad was a King too!”

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

 

 

 

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