[ WP ] When someone is murdered , their name appears on the skin of the killer . You wake up with a name on your arm and no knowledge of how it got there .

Yesterday was a really rough day. My ears are still ringing. I can barely remember much. It's hot as hell out here and my shirt is drenched in sweat. Maybe I just got ta clear my head with a good, long shower. 
 
 Grabbing a towel and throwing my soaked t-shirt into the hamper, I headed out to the showers. Ever had that feeling you had everyone looking at you? I could feel the judgement, but some people felt compelled to make some remarks. 
 
 `` Holy Shit.'' 
 `` Dude...'' 
 
 At that point I ran towards the shower. I did n't want to believe it, but there it was. I was marked. Looking over my shoulders at the mirror I saw not just any name, there were five. The names were blistering from my skin marked in deep blood red. I could barely make out the names cause I'm not proficient in reading backwards. 
 
 `` Thomas! Thomas!'' My superior yelled out. he must of heard about me being a marked man. 
 
 `` Sir... I do n't...'' 
 
 `` Save it and come with me now. Throw this on.'' he said as he grabbed a grungy and wrinkled t-shirt from a nearby hamper and tossed it at me. 
 
 Walking toward his office, all eyes fell on me. Looks like word spreads fast. I could n't even have a thought to myself about how this could've happened in the time it took to spread. Entering his office, he barked at me to take a seat. 
 
 `` Alright, take off your shirt. Let's see what we got here.'' he questioned. 
 
 Doing as I was told, he forcefully pushed my head forward to see all the marks. Muttering to himself, I could barely make out the words `` mercy'' and `` shit''. He immediately left, leaving me here possibly as a self reflection. 
 
 When I joined, they said I was doing my country a service. I was told that what we did was for the greater good and in the service of the people. They said fighting on the front lines for the service was a necessity and not a crime. Yet here I am, a marked man. Marked with five names. Marked with shame. Marked as a murderer. 
 
 My superior returned to the office shortly followed by his own superior. Again, his superior shoved my head back to observe the marks of shame. 
 
 `` What the hell have you done soldier?'' his superior said. 
 
 `` I do n't know sir.'' I responded meekly. I'm terrified of what's gon na happen now. 
 
 `` Sir, he was working security detail on the supply convoy with me yesterday. We were attacked but we were able to repel the enemy forces.'' My superior spoke on my behalf. 
 
 `` Let the kid speak for himself, Jacobs. Did you murder these people?'' his superior yelled out. 
 
 Deep down, I tried recalling all of the events of the attack. I remember us riding through town. We were joking around in the humvee. We always said the dumbest things to help take the edge off. After all, we're un-welcomed soldiers in a war torn country. The slow, bumpy ride was soothing, at least for me, because we were moving. No need to rush, and no signs of danger. Going through town, usually the kids and adults would come out to the streets and cheerfully greet us. It was silent and silence is never a good thing on a battlefield. No kids. No adults. Just one yell. 
 
 `` RPG!'' 
 
 Then everything became a blur. I remember jumping out of the humvee and returning fire to protect my friends and fellow soldiers, but that's about it. I tried to tell my superiors what I remembered but I just could n't remember the rest. 
 
 `` Jacobs, look at the names. It's a god damn family. This is a fucking PR nightmare.'' his superior scoffed. 
 
 `` Jesus Daniel, is that all you care about? He fought like hell to protect our unit and the convoy. It could've been collateral.'' my superior barked back. 
 
 I do n't know what's worse. The thought of me murdering them in cold blood or that I accidentally did so. I've killed so many enemies before without a hesitation. What could've happen to make me a marked man? 
 
 `` Collateral or not, a fucking family is dead because of him. The truth does n't matter in the eyes of the people. A marked man is a marked man. He'll be dishonorably discharged.'' 
 
 He's right. I do n't know how or why, but these marks proves I'm responsible. Regardless of intent. 
 
 `` This is fucking bullshit Daniel. He saved so many soldiers yesterday. War is war. People will always die, but we fight for the greater good. He protected us. It's not right for him to be discharged, especially dishonorably.'' he said with absolute vitriol. 
 
 `` You'll address me correctly soldier. You can forward those complaints to the Military police. We're done here.'' his superior said as he threw his weight. 
 
 `` Yes sir.'' Jacobs said bitterly. As his superior walked out of the office, Jacobs threw his chair across the office. He was livid. 
 
 Jacobs looked at me, `` I'm sorry Thomas. You deserve far better than this.'' 
 
 `` Do I?'' 
 
 Baffled, Jacobs questioned me, `` Why would you ever doubt that? You're gon na be robbed of your benefits. Your service record.'' 
 
 `` What defines murder in war, Sir? I've killed many in the name of our service and I've never been marked until now. We were traveling through their home. We're soldiers in a country that does n't want us here. We were protecting supplies for us, not them. This family is dead because of me. Because I was protecting the convoy. Because it was my duty for the service and greater good. Yet they died because I was doing my job for the `` greater good''. What good are we doing, Sir? We're suppose to have pride in our service. What pride do I have for killing a family for the service? Collateral or not? This is my mark to bear. Do I deserve better than this?'' 
 
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 This is the first time I've written for any prompt. Please go easy on me and if you'd kindly, please help critique this short story. For any servicemen please tell me if screwed something up. I do n't want to falsely represent any aspects of how the military works.
