War and Haos
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On this early morning in a rural Serbian town, birds were chirping and flying and having their usual fun. As the boy eats his breakfast, the first gunshot was heard. The birds flew off into the skies.

"Don't go outside," his mother said sternly, "What happens outside will not matter to us, understand?"

The boy thought otherwise. He'd never seen what a tank looked like, and he wanted to. He never really understood what war is like, and what guns were like up close. After he finished his breakfast, the boy climbed out of the window as his mother cared for his baby sister.

The boy walked outside into the cold air. He can see the distant smoke rising, see the machine gun blaring, and hear the men yelling. The boy was excited. He pretended to be a soldier and crawled in the dirt. He crawled towards a nearby trench, just to see what is going on.

As the Italian tank approached the trench filled with soldiers, men yelled at each other for ideas on surviving. The boy watched as the gun protruded out of the tank fired, slaughtering men one after one. The fresh smell of blood filled the air, covering the world with a layer of unbearable stench.

"Чедомир? Чедомир!" the boy's mother called for him from a distance. "Чедомир, where are you?"

The boy ignored his mother's call and surged forward. He laid by the trench and watched.

"What are you doing here?" a soldier turned around and asked. "Get out, child, or you'll get killed!" As soon he turned around a circular gray object landed near the trench. The soldiers' eyes widened and screamed.

"Grenade! Take cover!"

Then the boy watched as the grenade detonated, sending a blast of force that blew him away from the trench. He felt sharp pain, and cried out loud.

"Чедомир! Where are you? Чедомир…Oh God," the boy's mother arrived and looked at the boy's mutilated body, "Wake up, Чедомир!"

The boy felt staggering pain in his left eye. He cried as his tears mixed with his river of blood.

"Help!" his mother screamed, "Help! Save my boy, medic!"

"Please be okay, my boy…" his mother whispered as she cupped his head in her hands. She wept.

The boy smiled. He laughed. "Haos," he whispered. "Haos." he repeated. "Haos!" he shouted, laughing hysterically as he pulled out shards of the shattered grenade out of his eye, bearing the crimson metal fragments in his small hand.

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