Lying on the sand was not the best feeling it felt damp because the brown waves went over it. I got up and walked all the way to the village realising it has been 2 years since I saw uncle Andrew die. I still have a locket of him and my father who I killed 2 weeks ago by shooting him with a rifle, he was an awful man and selfish,
I saw Rachel bark who lived across the street I came to her and asked her something.
Where is June? I asked
''She died sweetheart'' Rachel announced
''when?'' I returned sadly
''when you crashed into her'' She replied
''I'm a murderer!'' I announced. I decided to snap my neck on a bench.
1st soldier - Henry Wilkingson 1892 - 1944