To Help a Brother

The heat must be getting to me. Suddenly, that isn’t an Iraqi boy laying there helpless, it’s my own kid brother, pleading for help. I rush forward without thinking, my comrades close behind. I lift up the boy in my arms rather easily. I give him a smile as a tear escapes the confines of my eye.
“Everything’s going to be alright, ok? Everything’s going to be fine.” I tell him, not really knowing if it will. I say it as much to reassure myself as to reassure him.
I know he probably can’t understand me, but he smiles faintly anyway. I can feel his complete and utter trust, can see it on his face. I only hope I won’t let him down.

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