----I wrote this story in a hurry! I have 2 assessments tomorrow! And this was my homework! It involved a story, so I thought... maybe...
On 11th December 1914, I was selected for the army. It was also my mother's birthday. I watched tears pour out of her eyes as I packed my belongings to depart into my destiny. I felt that serving my country for a greater purpose was what destined to do. I also felt an adventure brimming. After my packing was done, I set foot out of the house, only to return after we had won the war. I turned back to wave goodbye to my mom, who had a tears overflowing from her eyes. I set out, with a smile on my face, but soon they would turn inverted.
It took two months of rigorous training and demonstrating survival skills in extraordinary conditions for me to be recruited to go into the war. On 20th February 1915, I was put in a small segment of the Western Trench, to fight until my last breath. My first few days were arduous. Not to mention cold. Being new, they made me be the clothes-washer. Every night, I used to collect all the soldiers clothes and wipe them clean until the lice flee'd.
After a couple of weeks, I was allowed to hold a gun and fire. I took my stance and held the rifle high, aimed and shot. It hit right on target - the guy dropped dead. It wasn't the feeling I expected. I felt a dark abyss of pain engulf me. I had never felt this dark before. I just took the life of a person. Horrified and out of words, I put my gun down and went to the dugout. At night, I tried not to bring that gruesome memory back.
The following day, I was back on clothes duty. As I was washing, I noticed this peculiar soldier. He wasn't shooting, he was praying on his knees. From the looks of it, he looked underage. He got up eventually, and climbed the trench. He shouted, 'God save me,' and ran into the No Mans' Land. Within seconds he was shot to the ground. I was glued to my place, the clothes fallen on the ground. From then, I was determined to get out. And get out fast. I took the gun closest to me and aimed it at my foot. I knew it was sacrificial, but I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. Pain traveled through my body faster. I fell on the ground shivering with pain. I could see the blood oozing out of my boots. I regret joining the army. I should have stayed back. I could have avoided all of this. I wish I had.
On 11th December 1914, I was selected for the army. It was also my mother's birthday. I watched tears pour out of her eyes as I packed my belongings to depart into my destiny. I felt that serving my country for a greater purpose was what destined to do. I also felt an adventure brimming. After my packing was done, I set foot out of the house, only to return after we had won the war. I turned back to wave goodbye to my mom, who had a tears overflowing from her eyes. I set out, with a smile on my face, but soon they would turn inverted.
It took two months of rigorous training and demonstrating survival skills in extraordinary conditions for me to be recruited to go into the war. On 20th February 1915, I was put in a small segment of the Western Trench, to fight until my last breath. My first few days were arduous. Not to mention cold. Being new, they made me be the clothes-washer. Every night, I used to collect all the soldiers clothes and wipe them clean until the lice flee'd.
After a couple of weeks, I was allowed to hold a gun and fire. I took my stance and held the rifle high, aimed and shot. It hit right on target - the guy dropped dead. It wasn't the feeling I expected. I felt a dark abyss of pain engulf me. I had never felt this dark before. I just took the life of a person. Horrified and out of words, I put my gun down and went to the dugout. At night, I tried not to bring that gruesome memory back.
The following day, I was back on clothes duty. As I was washing, I noticed this peculiar soldier. He wasn't shooting, he was praying on his knees. From the looks of it, he looked underage. He got up eventually, and climbed the trench. He shouted, 'God save me,' and ran into the No Mans' Land. Within seconds he was shot to the ground. I was glued to my place, the clothes fallen on the ground. From then, I was determined to get out. And get out fast. I took the gun closest to me and aimed it at my foot. I knew it was sacrificial, but I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. Pain traveled through my body faster. I fell on the ground shivering with pain. I could see the blood oozing out of my boots. I regret joining the army. I should have stayed back. I could have avoided all of this. I wish I had.
love the part where you kinda wanna die....wish it was real
ReplyDeleteThank you, but you have no idea what you are losing.
ReplyDelete