Okay I about to enter my first writing contest

Okay I about to enter my first writing contest and I wanted you guys to tell me if my approach to the story works or not... if not can you tell me what doesn't... I really want to win ... so be brutal. its the first draft... I self edited but I will admit I am Grammatically Challenged. any help is appreciated! Thank you for your time also... and one last thing this is a FICTIONAL account of a true story. 

Tracers – A Soldier’s Story

     I watched them. Under the OD green canvas, they slept like they didn’t have a care in the world. The tent folds peacefully swaying back and forth, as if tent was beckoning me to complete the mission.  I could see their sleeping bags ripple in the moonlight. I watched their bodies reposition themselves from time to time. They slept the sleep of a person with a clear conscious. As if all was well in their world. The scent was even gone from them now. They washed me off in shower and let me flow down the drain.  I imagine I mixed will with the sewer water. Now they slept all fresh and clean. I watched them. I amused myself by imagining the look on their faces if they knew. I wonder how many Dirty Hoes and B****** I would be now. Looking through the scope of a M16 rifle locked and loaded will have you thinking all kinds of things. I calculated my trajectory to make sure I had it right. No mistakes. I didn’t want to ruin the effect the of tracer rounds, I acquired a handful the day after. At first, I went for a regular clip; but then I saw the tracers. Why not make the news; hell, why not make a movie. It would be interesting to see if the red streak of the tracer rounds illuminated my targets on impact. I wished that it would have tapped them on the shoulder so they could see it was me. You know like on the cartoons. Fantasy on my part, they would never see me. They laid in their tent side by side, buddies in the field and partners in crime, completely ignorant to the fact that I held their future in my index finger. I refocused the crosshairs and watched them, just watched.  I still had some time to waste.

     My inner screen replayed the violence of a few nights before so I shook my head to keep me in the moment. Couldn’t myself get mad. This had to be done with a clear head. Unlike them I don’t attack at random. I was a good soldier; I did recon first. I knew what time they went to bed. I knew what time they went sleep. I put O’Reilly on Roving Guard with his special buddy; I maintained the duty rooster. See I knew when O’Reilly’s on duty with his special buddy, he would disappear after his second round. That would give me about fifteen minutes. I rented out the PC carrier to Johnson. No collateral damage.  I was good soldier, I knew how to hurry up and wait. I smiled because others would say “Aw She lost her mind or She wasn’t thinking.”  My mind was clear and I understood the consequences of my tracers. I was fine with that.

     A hour turned into hours. I never moved from my perch. I looked down on the camp and tried to imagine the chaos in the aftermath. How many rounds could I get off before the rest figured out what was going on. I only had a handful. I supposed the mission would be completed before they realized what happen. I thought I would do O’Reilly a favor and let him catch me. That was the least I could do since he aided me.

     I looked at my watch. 1:40am, I just had seven minutes to go. Mission execution had to be at 1:47am.  That was the time on my watch that night I was forced to the ground behind a tree. A hand on my neck so tight I could barely breathe. I tried to fight but hands held my legs too. After two big thuds, I ceased to fight. I knew I was hit with something. I remember wondering why it didn’t hurt more. I thought it would hurt more. I stared at my watch with dirt in my mouth, too numb to spit it out. The big hand was between the one and two. The little hand was just above the nine. The second hand disappeared into the cracked crystal. I died at 1:47am. It seemed only fitting that my vengeance is served at that same exact time. O’Reilly made his second round. I watched him walk out of sight. The time was 1:46am. I rechecked my weapon and assumed the position. With the nuzzle of my M16 firmly positioned to deliver three-tight, I waited. In less than a minute I would start BRAS and there would be no turning back; my mission would have to be completed. I silently counted the last ten seconds. My index finger in place to bring the justice that I was robbed of when the commander said it was my fault. I shouldn’t have enticed them like that. He said things like that happen sometimes when a woman enters a man’s Army. I just had to put it behind me and move on, he said patting me on my back. I said patting; I meant stabbing. However I did agree with him on one point, I did have to put it and them behind me or under me – whichever.

     The appointed time came and I took my justice that was denied me by the command. I instantly felt a release. It was done, I could then move on. I unassembled my weapon taking great care not to make a lot of noise. Only minutes before I held two lives in my hands. It was my choice if they should live or die. I chose to let them see another day. My vengeance was complete. I didn’t need to take their lives. I needed to take my power back and I did.  I forgave them.

     That morning I went to breakfast for the first time since it happened. I didn’t shy away from them. I looked for them. I wanted to look in their eyes and see if they could tell that something was different. I wanted to show them that I’m not crying anymore. I wanted my command to see. I’m a Soldier in every sense of the title. I will never let a coward destroy me. I played with the idea of telling them what I did…you know let them know how close they came. How close I came. In the end, I figure it’s not only about what you could do, sometimes it’s what you could do – but don’t.   

 thank you for reading this Pamela