“Remember when we were kids.
“Playing in that drug-ridden park. You had that old steel-framed bike from your cousin, the one with the blue paint that you said made it look like a Buick. You loved that bike.”
Matt felt the wound of nostalgia. His friend, his closest brother, remained silent.
“And then the kids on Tenby street stole it on day and you cried and cried. I couldn’t even tease you, you were crying so bad. And you ran back to your parents. I got you that bike back. I broke a knuckle getting you that bike back.”
Alai had said nothing then, just like he said nothing now.
“And when we were drafted you tried not to cry, and I stuck by you. Fucking kids man, sent to war. That gunny had it in for you. But I took the rap. And you said nothing.
“Lima man. That’s where I lost you.”
Matt passed the pistol between his hands, the sweat making it slippery in his palms. The barrel was still warm.
“Seventeen years we’d grown up together. Like brothers. And I’d taken every shitty punch meant for you. And you. Said. Nothing.”
His hands shook.
“And when that RPG hit you dragged me out of that hellhole. You were a fucking pacifist dude. And then you go and… and…”
Matt looked at Alai’s hands. They were clean. How could they still be clean.
“You killed every rebel in that town. And the next. You put more bodies in the ground than God and then you had to go and become one!
“I always had your back buddy. Always.”
Alai just sat there.
“The war didn’t end for you. The war never ended.”
Matt stood up, letting the pistol clatter to the floor. The palace was crumbling down but Matt had already lost the only thing worth saving. The blood trickled from the hole in the back of his best friends head.
Prompt originally posted by Theminonking on reddit and received 2 upvotes.