Gunfire echoed throughout the battlegrounds. Screams and wails of fear and pain can be heard from a mile away. The smell of gunpowder and blood lingered in the stale air, rendering breathing even more difficult. A sea of blood stretched to every part of the battlefield, staining anything in its path a sickening crimson red. As I watched the nightmare unfold bit by bit, I wonder: Must we really resort to this? Hundreds of bodies litter the grounds, some beyond recognition. Occasionally, the sound of an artillery shell crashing down could be heard, followed by more screams. The sight of people wailing, crying out for their loved ones, crying pathetically in fear of death, melted our hearts. Nearby, a mother was lying in a pool of blood, her eyes fixed in death. Her orphaned child sobs beside her, embracing her body, hoping that a miracle would happen. At such a young age, it was too cruel to separate him from his only source of love and care. As he mourned the death of his parent, others could not help but also shed tears. This was too much to bear. Wrecked buildings hovered over us like giants slowly crumbling to their death. The walls were partly covered in red, as if in a middle of a renovation. This was completed with a final touched – with horrendous bodies decorating every corner of the dead buildings. That dreaded colour, red, was visible from a mile away, as it covered a great deal of the surrounding areas. People, human beings, desperately sought for cover. I could make out a few civilians cowering behind a once glorious tank, which was now nothing but a lump of scrap metal. Empty bullet shells overflowed into the battlefield. We were engulfed by thick smoke and a sense of dread in the air, damping our spirits. The lucky ones managed to hold out till this long, attempting to dodge yet another wave of murderous pieces of lead. Only a handful was still able to put up a brave front; many people were already burying their heads in their hands, praying that they will be able to pull through. Cheers echoed throughout the entire battleground as the enemies finally put up a torn and tattered white flag. Hope began to restore itself in the eyes of the people still alive, and blood returned to their veins. Everyone’s face could show that they manage to cheat death, against all odds. However, it was bitter-sweet. People whose death could have been avoided were now covering the entire battlefield, never to wake ever again. Although we were the victors of this battle, it does not seem like it. The loss of so many lives, for one insignificant conflict, was not worth it.