So recently I have had thise sad scene in my head because of a song and one of my own characters. The song is above

Are you sure you want to see?

It is pretty sad, to me at least. And be warned, it is a little gross. Amd involves death...damn me if I post this

You sureeee?

Okay, get ready

Rusell clutched the small metal discs in his hands tightly as he lay upon the cold tile floor, it's uncaring and cold embrace only fueling the pangs and stabs of his personal guilt and pain. His eyes stung and bled out salty tears like the blood that once stained his hands. His gaping maw letting out choked sobs of remorse like the men who had once screamed for their mother in his arms, fearing the darkness that swallowed them amongst the constant hell and lead around them. The explosion of vivid memories assaulted his fragile emotions, a storm of hate, depression and guilt bombing him over and over and over again. Even his nose leaked something disgusting. He could taste the bile, and couldn't stop what was to follow. The liquid stained his shirt, but he was too enwrapped in his own pain to realize it. He remembered everything in crystal clear detail. How he had promised to save the poor young man, only to see metal rip life away from him. The stained sand flew up in his face, covering it with blood and grime, but he had to move on. Thus, he sprinted through the booming of shells, the ratatat of machine guns and screams of what was left of a man before he got to the next uniform of bloody meat. He gripped Russel's arm tightly, begging and pleading to be spared. Russel did his best, but knew it was hopeless once he saw how ot squirted like a fountain. He stared the dead man in the eyes, fear peircing back at him as the man's own eyes slowly greyed. He had to leave this one too, and the next was worse of all. His head ripped up, only to see his friend Caden bite the dirt. He rushed ovet, pulling him back onto a hedgehog to attempt to keep him alive. He wasn't hamburger meat yet, but the wound didn't look good. His leg looked like a popped sausage from the white hot shell ftagment. After a packet of morphine was given, his tweezers reached in and pulled the jagged piece out of his friends leg which was then treated properly.

(I think that is all I am going to do. Sheesh this was either depressing or bad...or both I'm not sure anymore. Don't ask, seriously. I don't know why either. STOP! STOP EEET! I SAID DON'T ASK DAMN IT