I want to die, so that others might stay.
 
At 6, I imagined my older self extricating a hardly conscious woman from her collapsing house during a rescue operation.
Chemicals poured into the night sky, and the flames roared out of the windowsills.
I made another round as my crew began defensive attacks.
I saw the mother's cry of relief as I rushed out of the crackling house, cradling her baby against my chest.
I imagined that I go back in for their two puppies, but the structure finally gave way. 
 
At 12, I imagined my older self accompanied by a few friends in a desert.
We played our usual pick-up soccer match until our squad was ordered to carry out a civilian evacuation in a nearby village that evening.
We extracted dozens bunkered under the battle zone.
Nearing sundown, I found a straggler, so we improvised a makeshift shelter until dawn.
I imagined giving him my only meal packet before resting for the night, only to wake to my very last memory; him standing over me with a jagged piece of metal. 
 
At 18, I imagined my older self hearing the echoes of gunfire as I run into the screaming building, escorting wandering students into safe classrooms.
My partner and I detained two suspects, but the third one was smarter; he had stationed himself on an adjacent roof and brought death upon anyone visible through the windows.
I imagined stepping in front of the glass, my back to my fate, yet never knowing I was the only barrier between his barrel and a much-loved history teacher. 
 
I want to live, so that others might stay. 



Saturday 8 December 2024