Elon's Letter

There was a letter. Burned on the edges, and trapped underneath debris, fluttering in the desolate wind.

I don’t know who they were, or what life they lived, but the words upon that paper...it's horrible to know what war does to people. Poor guy. I can’t imagine what he's been through.

I don’t rightfully know why, but the words burned into my eyes as I read it. Something about it refused to leave my mind. If I recall correctly, the letter read something like this:

Dear Ash,

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

When I left, I was angry. I couldn’t understand why you did what you had done. I was infuriated that you had been so bold, had been so stupid.

But you were only fending for yourself. You were only trying to protect yourself from your greatest fears. And I don’t blame you. I can’t blame you.

I was tired. Working hours upon hours, never knowing when my shift would end. I would go home exhausted, and want nothing more than to fall into bed. You always had dinner ready. Always. I never thanked you for that. Never appreciated everything you did to make it easier on me when I came home.

I had been hearing much about the war from the ammunition plant. They spoke so highly of the soldiers. It was going well, they said. We were winning, they said. Now would be a great time to enlist.

When you broke our tracking chips, you took away what I thought had been my only comfort in this world. I was infuriated. Words cannot describe how angry I was. Yet now, as I wait for my demise, I realize now that I...I was wrong. So terribly wrong.

You were my comfort. Everything I did, everything I ever achieved, all of it was because I knew you stood behind me.

You were so timid when we were younger. Never standing up for yourself, never fighting back the bullies who tore you down. And whenever they beat me up, I could see the conflict in your eyes. You felt bad. You hated being weak, being unable to stop them. And I wished, I always wished, you hadn’t believed you were weak. For indeed, you were stronger than me.

All the hatred, all the insults, and you never bowed your head. I knew you were hurt, that their words stung, but...you were still the same, lovable Ash. They broke your confidence, but they never broke your spirit, your beautiful personality. Their beatings were nothing to me when I knew it kept them from touching you.

And when I stormed out of the house, and enlisted, and abandoned you by the pier...I forgot what had truly mattered to me. That it wasn’t some vain hope that had kept me alive all those years. It had been you. Your support, your positivity when I came home tired and cranky. Your laughter and care and thoughtfulness. You had your dark moments...your fear of our parents and doubts over their return. And I realize now...

You were right.

They weren’t going to come back for us. I don't know why they had tracking devices put in our arms, but after being gone for so long...

I put my own stupid hopes before your fears, and treated you so poorly. I distanced myself from my only friend. I became so wrapped up in my own work, in my own troubled thoughts, I forgot to care for you. To help you. To love you. I stopped being your brother. And Ash, I...I’m so sorry. I left without saying I’m sorry. Without saying I love you. I hurt you. I left you broken and scared and alone, just as our parents had done.

I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I can’t forget the way you looked at me. The fear in your eyes, the terror...the remorse...oh Ash. What have I done?

We’ve been trapped down here for a week now. The days have begun to melt together. This shelter won’t hold for long. The enemy is drawing near, and our squadron has been isolated. The backup and rescue teams are coming, but I fear they will be too late. Our deaths are imminent. It’s only a matter of time now.

I know...I know this letter will never reach you. But the agonizing regret has echoed so loudly in my head, I must write it out. I cannot bear the guilt any longer.

I know now my mistake. My foolish, selfish mistake.

When I left, despite being blinded by my rage, I fully expected to be home within a few weeks. After my anger faded, I promised myself I would go home, to make right my wrong. I knew I would return to you.

I guess I will, but...not in the way I expected.

Ash, please...please be okay. Please be safe. Please be supported and taken care of.

And...please forgive me.

I’m sorry Ash.

I’m so sorry.

I lo-

The letter ended with spatters of blood. I don’t know if it was this poor bastard’s or someone else’s. I don’t care to find out. Seems like the enemy came back and reclaimed their lost soldiers. I hope he did make it back to whoever Ash is.

Now, I’m no traitor, but the war was started over nothing more than petty boundary disputes by the high priests of our factions. Three-hundred thousand lives lost on both sides, only to have the damn borders remain the same. Damn political figureheads and their lack of consideration for human life.
So many lost for no reason other than a useless show of military prowess. I’m glad my faction won, but this guy...he seemed too innocent to have met such a fate. Seems to have had someone depending on him too.

Well, no use living in the past. What’s done is done, and there’s nothing I can do.

I freed the letter from it’s grave, and held it up to the wind. It was carried off over the landscape, tumbling through the border and across into the enemy lands beyond.

I hope it finds this Ash character. Maybe this poor soul’s laments will finally be heard. Or maybe not.
I guess it’s up to the hands of Fate.