A Friend Lost (7) : A Freewrite

In his final moments, Brandy extended his hand and clasped that of Memphis. His gaze conveyed a combination of anguish and appreciation. "Memphis, swear to me... that you'll escape from this place. Live... for the two of us."

Memphis' sight was obscured by tears as he numbly inclined his head, his words clogged in his throat by a thick obstruction. He observed the spark depart his companion Brandy’s eyes, her hand gradually becoming lifeless in his hold.

Amid the havoc and devastation, Brandy had sadly become another fatality of war, leaving Memphis to confront the oppressive guilt and sorrow of losing his closest pal. The battleground, previously a spot of mutual ambitions and comradeship, had become a harsh signifier of the relentless price of war.

As he clutched Brandy's inanimate body amidst the pandemonium, Memphis swore a stoic vow to enshrine the recollection of his companion, to respect Brandy's conclusive desire by uncovering a path to exist in a globe ravaged by the terrors of warfare. Nonetheless, at that instant, the burden of grief was almost unbearable.