As my family kisses David and bids him well, I wish so badly to be in his shoes. I want to go to war and to be a hero like my brother. I have watched brother after brother of mine walk out the door and now my fourth and last, David, is leaving too. I look into his soulful blue eyes and wish that I can go with him. Wish as I may that it will be my turn next; I know that girls are not allowed to fight.

As David leaves I try to memorize everything about the way he moves, talks and looks so I can copy him. So closely I watch men because I am going to become one. Quickly, I chop at my long gold hair, grab a heavily patched pair of pants and suspenders from David’s drawers and run after him before my parents notice I am gone.

I quickly lose track of where he went so now I am on my own. I walk for miles and miles and finally I see a sign: “Union Soldiers Needed.” The only problem is that my parents are Confederates along with every other soul in my entire family. It doesn’t matter; I never liked being a Confederate anyway, I always had a free spirit and I know that the Union can free us. I really need to get in before the war is over, so I sign on; what will my parents think? Their daughter has run away and become a Union soldier.

No one questions me when I say my name is Alfred Campbell and no one questions me as we begin to walk to the battle. Not having an idea what’s going on, I follow the crowd. I try to keep quiet for the fear of being discovered but inside I’m boiling. The energy of all these men is bursting at the seams, I’m afraid if I don’t match it, it will drown me. After so long imagining the fighting, I’m finally on my way, my brother is nowhere to be seen and I’m fighting for the wrong side, but somehow it thrills me. I can barely wait to start firing.

                                          -------

I hold the gun in my hands and I can’t stop firing. It feels so good to know that I’m helping my country and fighting for freedom. I want to keep fighting, keep killing. Seeing the look on all those men’s faces when they realized they were about to die thrills me. I jump over bodies and horses all moaning, crying, lying limp. Sounds of shots and sounds of hurt fill my ears. Around so many people dying, I feel more alive than ever.

I came to another man, the blue fire in his eyes shines out under layers of grime and blood. Without hesitating, I shoot him and my bullet hits his side. I scramble past and hear his whisper, “Alice? Why?” I almost ignore it but I realize he’s talking to me. How does he know my name? I begin to panic; afraid I’ve been discovered. Fighting the urge to run, curiosity turns me around.

I crouch and stare into his face, those blue eyes that I had grown up with burn as bright as ever. Tears stream down my face as I bend down and kiss his forehead, “I’m so sorry David, I’m so very sorry,” I whisper over and over as he dies cradled in my arms.

I see a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket and I pull it out. When I unfold it, I realize that it is a picture I drew when I was seven. In the picture, my whole family stands outside of our house holding hands.  It reminds me of how I could have been an innocent girl living with my family and waiting for my brothers to return as war heroes.

Long after the battle has moved past me, I stay laying there crying. I can’t face the shameful looks of my family if I go home. I wish that I never came here. I only wanted to help my country and make my family proud; never did I want to kill my brother.

A young Confederate man shuffles past me holding his gun at the ready. “Please, shoot me,” I say, but I don’t think the words leave my mouth. Still the bullet hits me. He looks into my eyes and then starts running. Now I know what it must have felt like for all those men I killed and left dying. I lie clinging to David, “I’m so sorry,” I say with my last breath, apologizing for the way I left my life, unfinished.