I looked down at the world presented below me.

Before I agreed and proudly accepted this job, I’ve always imagined it as an evil, beastly place where the enemies would resemble a loathsome creature from hell itself. I’ve always told myself that this place was corrupt, ugly, wicked, and deserved this very fate I was about to present to them.

But now, with the reality of the world beneath me as a tiny, quiet quilt, I realized how wrong I was.

It seemed peaceful.
Shy.
Innocent, even.

And I was about to destroy it all.

I wondered how many innocent lives I was about to diminish with only one push of a powerful button.

Stop it, I thought to myself. Be a man and think for your people and your nation.

They deserved this; they deserved every last bit of hell thrown at them in the most evil and inhumane way possible. They deserved to have their eyeballs pop out and melt into liquid, their skin burned and sizzling down to the bone, their bodies disintegrated and killed.

I felt my whole body freeze and stiffen the longer I peered down into the serene world sitting below me.

Did they? Did they deserve this? Did they deserve any of this? Did any human being on this earth deserve this merciless, grotesque treatment? Was there truly a human being on this earth that believed that the world below—full of thousands of innocent men, women, elders, and children who smile and laugh innocently everyday in their pure, pure lives—deserved this cruel, heartless attack?

No.
No, I can’t think about this now. It’s too late to doubt myself.
I have to follow the orders. I have to protect my country.

I soared through the cloudy, bleak sky, hands firmly on the control.

A message flicked and buzzed in my ear. It was almost time to attack.

Trying to eliminate thoughts of betrayal and deception, I pushed the skeptic feelings to the back of my mind and thought about the pleased and dignified commanders brimming with pride when they saw the team and me take off as pilots for the mission, the upcoming initiator of a deep mark in world history. I remembered standing in a line before leaving, the commander yelling, “Serve your country. Serve your people. Don’t you ever damn forget what the enemy has done to you and the very country you live in!”

I thought back to my family and friends. It’s been a painfully long time since I’ve seen my beautiful wife, my little baby boy, my close friends. I can hardly remember the faces of my colleagues, my neighbors, my coworkers, or even the formerly familiar walls of my home.

Home. The word was warm and nostalgic, giving me reminiscent spells of a ravenous longing to go back to it and fall back to my previous hushed life. This longing would create nervous knots in my stomach, my body crying and mourning when I would stay still and tell myself that, at this moment, it was impossible; I couldn’t go home.

“Whose fault is this?” I imagined the commander yelling and spitting at me. “The enemy’s!”

Even so, even if they created all of these excruciatingly hard times and bloody wars, was this attack worth all the things they have done to us? Was anything in this world worth what I was about to do—what my country wanted me to do? Wasn’t there some other way, some other more presentable, viable solution than the one that was laid out for them now?

Why and how did it come to this? It was so sick, so crude and disgusting.

Stop! I fiercely thought through gritted teeth. Be a man. Think for your people and your nation!

Another message flicked and buzzed in my ear.

It was time to attack in 10… 9… 8…

A cold, seeping, deep empty feeling filled up my entire body. Suddenly the air was too thick, too heavy, too hard to breath. My throat was stuck. I felt like I was being choked. I felt like I was dying. I felt like death itself.

7… 6… 5… 4…

Slowly, so slowly, I positioned my hand over the attacking button before lightly touching its cool, sleek surface. The cockpit buzzed with hushed, forceful tones, whispering to try to comfort and bring me forward to deliver this crude fate to thousands. The air bit around me, crushing me, suffocating me, forcing me to oblige to carry out the mission to what this aircraft was destined to execute: kill and destroy, destroy and kill.

3… 2… 1…

A killer. A murderer. A slayer. A slaughterer.

Did I want to be known as this type of person? Could I live my life knowing that I killed innocent people because my country was scared of their threats?

Victory meant the world to my country, but did the world mean anything to them?

My finger was against the button, everything around me pausing to see what I would do next.

Be a man and think for your people and your nation.

Be a man.

Think for your people.

Think for your nation!

There was no turning back. I was going to change history.

Attack.

I pressed the button.

I heard the nuclear bomb tear through the sky, giving a wailing shriek of a warning as it sorrowfully cried and plunged into the innocent town, delivering its present of death and annihilation. The cry of the bomb took my thoughts along with its forceful offering of obliteration: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

I was numb. So, so numb. There was an empty feeling in my stomach. I was cold. So, so cold.

I saw the blinding explosions before hearing the deafening sounds. Everywhere beneath me was white, blinding light, then smoke, thick smoggy smoke. An invisible force stimulated my plane to jerk up and down, causing me to bring control back to the system as the formerly peaceful and serene world below distorted into chaotic devastation.

Suddenly the air went from thick to thin. My breathing was ragged and fast—was I flying too high up in the air? What is it? Why am I like this?—and I felt my heart racing too fast, about to leap out of my chest and join in the mass destruction below.

My mind blurred, blackened. What was that oozing, dying sound? It was so sick, so repulsively revolting. It made my blood turn icy cold, my skin prickling with goose bumps and shivers.

The screams—the decaying, dying screams. I heard them. I heard them all. I heard their agony, their pain, their life melting and fading away into dust. I heard them cry, I heard them wail, I heard their grieving and perishing cry for help.

I heard it.

I heard it all.

And I did nothing about it.

The worst part was hearing it cut off, hearing it end in a sudden and abrupt matter. They were briefly there with the most desperate and pitiful cry of help, and then there was a deceased silence. They were gone. They were dead. It was silent.

I wanted to scream.

My mind kept replaying their imaginary cries, their faces contorted into something ugly and monstrous. I saw their hollow eyes, their burnt face, their melting skin. I saw their pain and hurt, their ugly faces with a sadness so deep it made me shatter into a million pieces.

“Why?” I heard them whisper through their nonexistent scaly lips, their empty hollow eyes reaching out to me. “Why? Why?” They made hideous crying noises and wails in despair, but no tears came out. They didn’t have any liquid in them. They didn’t have any blood. They were dry, beastly creatures with only bone and skin. “Why? Why did you do this to us? Why? Why?”

I saw a crying child that was separated from his family, dying in the middle of the street. He was lost, he was confused, and he wanted to go home. But there was no home. There was no family. There was nothing.

He was dead. She was dead. They were dead. They were all dead.

The woman who used to model in magazines was dead. The retired teacher who taught many successful students was dead. The little baby boy who was born into this cursed world two months ago was dead.

They were all dead.

“Why? Why? Why?” I heard them weep in deep anguish before disintegrating away into death.

I was numb. So, so numb. There was an empty feeling in my stomach. I was cold. So, so cold.

I had pressed that button. I did this. I did this to them. I killed them. I killed them all.

I imagined my country cheering and celebrating after hearing about the successful attack.

I was numb. So, so numb.

I am a man, I thought weakly with a shaking disturbed body. I thought for my people and my nation.

But I wasn’t a man. I wasn’t a human. I wasn’t anything.

I was numb.