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They say you have 10 seconds after you've been stabbed. Only 10. There's not enough time. I'm going to die here.

...10...

Never thought I would die alone, on a blood strewn field

...9...

I thought I had finished it, but the adrenaline wore off and wounds take their toll.

...8...

I'm going to become just another corpse.

...7...

I thought I would be remembered, perhaps. A hero.

...6...

I'm starting to lose everything now, the sound of the birds have ceased, the rotten stench of bodies no more, and that metallic taste of blood in my mouth fading.

...5...

The sights going now. Everything's blurred, but I can't see much through my helmet anyway.

...4...

I don't want to die like this. I want to die happy. Can I to find a happy memory?

...3...

There's nothing, nothing, nothing. All I can remember is war.

...2...

There. Just a glimmer, but it's a memory. Laughter. I can't remember the laughers, but I can remember their laugh

...1...

That laugh....who is it? Does it matter? It's happy. It's fading now, though. But then again, so am I.

A hero died today. He lay on that battleground with the whisper of a smile on his face. He was found, and oh, how they sobbed. How they wished he hadn't gone by himself. How they wished he didn't sacrifice himself. There is a statue of him now, cold and pale, standing in a flower garden, and his body lies in a crypt. A girl visits every day, daughter, sister, or friend. No one knows. He still has that smile. Just a ghost of a grin, it's faint. Oh, how they wish they knew what he was smiling about. Perhaps, it was just a memory.