I run towards the door at the end of the pitch black corridor. I run to a light and leave my friend behind to be eaten by himself. Should I even care for the world out there? I ask myself over and over as my body starts to bath in the light. He put his trust in me, but I turned my back. The last things I heard were the shells hitting the ground beneath my friends feet and a cry of fear in the distance. Goodbye my friend.
Who is the friend? You decide.
Constructive criticism is always accepted.
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