The bullets gain speed as they shoot towards my chest. Dropping onto my knees, I whine and groan and fall into a small shell hole, I know the battle is still on so I stay still showing no sign of motion or noise but I can't help it, "I NEED HELP!" I shout but it is useless, I don't go, I stay, I look down at the blood oozing from my wounds.
If I go, I will get shot again. If I stay, I will suffer.
I imagine my friends, still out there, dropping like bowling pins, I still hear gun shots ringing in my ears, I gag smelling my blood mixing with the thick, brown mud underneath me. I feel as white as a ghost, I can't go on....
Will I die?