Remember the fallen, remember the lost, remember the ones that we may have forgot. They fought on the beaches, the hills and towns. Their blood was spilled as they ran from the water, guns screaming, war blazing. The sand crunched beneath the boots of the soldiers and squelched when they fell. Their families back home trembling with every thought of their loved one not coming home.
And now we remember the ones that fell, the lost and we remember the forgotten. Their legacies continue to influence the life we live today as we feel the pain of our people at war.
Darkness. It brings out many things. Dangerous animals wake from their sleeps to hunt their prey. Humans have always despised the dark. They make light to hide it but it is still there. They build shelters to be safe from it, but are they?
Ben and Joel were in the woods with their fathers. They had been hunting deer through the densely grown trees. As they came to a clearing they saw a body. It’s skin was ghostly white. They called for their fathers as it shivered, they stepped back, screams exciting their mouths. But their fathers never came, this was one of them.
Green water passed slowly under the boat. My friends were swimming at the bend in the river. Broken tree branches floated by. Boxes were lifted off barges that were anchored at the small dingy old dock. An old ginger cat sat basking in the sun. I was leaning against the bow of our small fishing boat when I heard a whooshing sound. A wave of water rushed towards us. Brown silt churned around inside the waves. I was frozen with fear. Screams were heard from my friends but I knew it was too late. I dived under water hoping the wave would pass over me….
Gnarled hands clung to me as I tried to escape. Once again I had been caught, but I knew that this time would be my last. They through me into a hessian sack, rough fabric itching my bare back. They took no care when moving me, tossing me over streams and dropping me on rocks. The bag soon became damp with the blood of my body. When I was released I was pushed between two trees and had a gown placed over me. I looked up one last time only to be frozen solid. Now I stand guard for eternity.
Stars shone in the picturesque night sky. As I crept further into the heavily forested area that the town called haunted, my scents began to play with me. I could not believe the smell. It smelt of death and rot and as I got closer my late night decisions started to seem not so great. It was already early morning but the dense canopy of the trees blocked any light from entering. A clearing opened up in front of me and the source of the stench became known. A decomposing deer lay still on the ground, shotgun wound surrounded with dry, crisp blood. Death was long gone.
The cold sterile environment of the hospital brought alarm and unsettle racing into my head. Several bodies covered in pale blue one-piece suits added to my discomfort. I was groggy but I remembered that this sense of sight is new to me. Suddenly I was able to see again, it was a shock discovery but it brought tears to my newly working eyes. The strange men and women left the rooms smiling only to be replaced by a new group of visitors. Their faces were filled with joy and wonder. I looked at one lady who asked
“Jane, do you remember me?” I knew the voice,
As I looked around I realized what a strange life I now live, no water, no food, no home. Nothing. The streets have become grubby and polluted with the sorrow and despair of the city’s residents. The sound of the constant bombardment of bullets and bombs echoes off the crumpled walls of demolished buildings that once stood tall. Cars are now a distant memory of what was once a reality. What was once a cosmopolitan city has become a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Every day is a struggle just to survive and I live everyday like it is my last. Because it might as well be.
“May I have the pepper crocodile with a glass of orange juice. And make it snappy” His southern accent was still present even after years away from his home. But as the waiter looked at him quizzically he spoke again. “Oh I forgot, this is an established diner and crocodile isn’t available!” He made emphasis on the word established by making little quotation marks above his head. He had made his point clear that he was unhappy and left in a storm of rage, but he had left a note that read.
Only the strong of the world will survive not the soft. Be aware!
“Are you sure we should do this?” I asked, my voice trailed off as I looked at the bridge’s siluet in the distance. It seemed to hover just over the mysterious grey of the raging river. “It will be fine.” Jimmy exclaimed. “It’s only half a bridge, no one will know it was us.” I agreed and had one last glimpse at the bridge. I took a deep breath and threw the bomb. Over the water,through the sky and landing on the bridge. It erupted in a blazing ball of gas, fire and smoke. I turned to run but…
Sand, sun and more sand. The grueling trek through the desert had taken a toll on me. It has been day after day of sand blowing in my face and finding its way to places of my body even I didn’t know exist. But it is yellow, all the sand in this stinking place is yellow! Like, can’t there be some blue sad or pink, make it different! Anyway, after days of walking I came across an old vase with a lid. It was very ornate and I wonder what was inside. I opened the lid to the greatest sight man has ever seen.
Ghostly mist hung low over the graveyard. A moon like a spotlight lit up the midnight sky. Gravel crunched beneath our feet as we stumbled under the dark shadows of trees. I pulled out my shovel, with a rusty metal tip and a worn down wooden handle. Finally we can make a start, I thought. I gave my partner a stiff nod and started digging. Our inhuman deed was unbearably disgusting. It was crude, vile, disgraceful. It was wrong. We were to dig up the graves of a rural country town and take any riches that lay six feet under…
My eyes watered as I stared into the growing inferno. I heard a scream and a smash from my little sister. I wanted to run in and help but it was far too hot. I fell to the ground. Crippled. Smoke rose into the sky. Slowly Drifting towards the heavens. Glancing towards the house I was destroyed. Eyes watering then streaming with fresh, tragic tears. The reality of being an orphan was intensely traumatic. With a pitiful crash the roof caved in and fueled the crackling and popping of the deathly fire. I was too grief-stricken to cry anymore. My life had been ruined tonight.
I would like to congratulate Alex on having his 100WC writing piece from week 34 selected and awarded as a Special Showcase Piece. This is a fantastic achievement. Well done to all students within 6EK who take part in the 100WC each week.