((Open, be him, my name is Jewel)) i was crying. I'd never gotten hurt more than a small bruise or scratch. Now it was a war between the rebels and the government. I was a rebel. I had gotten shot in the shoulder. It burned, ached, was numb, and multiplied it all by 30. "Jewel, hey, calm down. We'll get you to the medical tent. Calm down." He told me. My best friend. I held my shoulder tight.