Kids these days

"She's 18 now, right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

The wind blows through my hair, the sun shining on my face. Not quite the vacation getaway I had envisioned, but... take what you can get, I guess.

"Bump!"

The turret I'm standing in rocks, throwing me against the side and re-re-bruising my hip. I grip the M4 in my hands tighter and yell down to my driver, "Jesus! Take it easier on those!" He just laughs.

"I'm telling you, we will get Miley Cirus to come to Afghanistan," my Lieutenant claims. I see two kids on the side of the road, one waving, the other holding something up.

"She's going to meet me and fall in love."

As we near the kids, I take a closer look.

"We're gonna fuck, and she's gonna get pregnant. She'll have to stay."

It's a pistol. The kid is holding a gun. And he's pointing it directly at me. Instantly I tense up, and grip the M4 tighter.

"Whatever, sir. Keep dreaming."

Fuck. Suddenly my mind is running a mile a minute.

It's probably a toy... But it looks so real. What if I shoot and he was just playing with his new water gun? He looks happy, not hostile, and he's just a kid for fuck's sake, not even 8 years old.

I call down, asking what I should do. The Lt. tells me to get low and keep a close eye on him, so I do. Doubts are still running through my head.

Even if he doesn't shoot at me, what if he kills one of the gunners in a truck behind me, one of my friends?

The chatter in my truck has gone completely silent, tense, waiting to see what happens. We drive past the kid, my knuckles white on the grip of my rifle. I feel a bit relieved, but I'm listening closely for a gunshot behind me. I lose sight of the kid, and the seconds seem to take hours, waiting for a shot that I hope will never come.

There is no shot, there is no yelling, no signs of violence. Our convoy rolls past, without any incident. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"So, sir, when is Miley coming?"