You know when you get that feeling?

Like something terrible is about to happen?

When you're staring at the ground below you and you get that lump in your throat?

I was looking at the world below me, the many people I would never know and who I didn't want to know because knowing them would destroy everything I believed.

THEY were thee enemy, I was in the right. My COUNTRY was in the right.

I was on the plane, just doing what I had to to stop this war.

To stop it all…

I had to do my job… I had no choice.

I could feel eyes on me from down below, of a mother with her baby.

My finger shuddered for a moment as it held just above the red button.

This war had to end.

I did what I had to.

I closed my eyes in tears as I rammed my finger into the button and the bomb fell.

The bomb made to kill millions… thousands and thousands of people dying.

Disintegrated.

And all I could imagine was the mother with her baby being blown into oblivion.

I couldn't cope. I wasn't letting myself feel. I couldn't! I COULDN'T! Because once I felt something besides patriotic pride for my country I would kill myself.

I couldn't cope. I COULDN'T COPE!

My body was crippling over in pure aching emotion. A deep regretful sadness I just simply couldn't push away.

I opened the floor of my aircraft, unbuckling my seat, and walking in slow somber steps towards it.

"Ben!" My co-pilot yelled at me and I only gave him my final salute as I stepped out of the plane.

And was torn apart by the wind… till I was no more than memory to the world.

A memory that would be quickly forgotten...