[ WP ] When you kill someone , directly or indirectly , you get an unremovable tally mark on your arm . Yesterday night , you had zero . Today , you have so many tally marks that your entire arm is the colour of the tally marks

He tossed and turned frantically, shadowy forms hunting him through his nightmares. Harry had always been able to tell when he was asleep, and wake himself up if necessary. 
 
 *Tonight, it's not worth it. * 
 
 The barbiturates did their job quite well, and Harry slept well past the morning briefing. His wife came in and shook him gently, and he simply turned over to the other side of the bed. She shook her head sadly, leaving a manila folder on the nightstand as she walked away to a somber breakfast. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 
 Harry gasped awake. He looked down at his left arm, dreading what he would find there. 
 
 *God in Heaven... What have I done? * 
 
 The arm was scarlet red, the same color as the tally marks the solders under his command received with every enemy slain, the same color that the mechanics received as the fighter planes they helped arm scored successful kills. Not a single patch of skin showed through the countless thousands of marks. 
 
 He sighed quietly, reaching over to pick up the manila folder he knew would be there, and flipping it open to the report. It contained a handwritten note, just a few words from the Defense Secretary. 
 
 *Bombers reported success. Hiroshima has been hit, waiting on Japanese reply. * 
 
 He set the report down, and noticed that a single tear, unbidden, was making its way down the side of his face. He wiped it away gently, and then rose out of his bed to begin the day. No tears, not even for such a tragedy. The time had come for President Truman to address the nation.
