Hey There! Today I am going to post the first chapter of a short story called "War and Peace" I have written recently! Hope you like it!
CHAPTER ONE
It was early in the morning, about 4 or 5 o’clock. It was still
quite dark, and it was cold.
I was running. Not from danger, but towards danger. I was so
scared. I did not want to die. But I must fight. I glanced around me as I ran.
Although I could see many of my mates, most of the faces around me were
unfamiliar. Some were wearing Australia’s badges; some were wearing New
Zealand’s. But it didn’t matter who they were. All of these men and boys were
doing the same as me. Fighting together. Fighting for freedom. For peace. For
an end to the war.
Suddenly, the Germans were upon us. I aimed at a soldier running
towards me. He fell to the ground, dead. I got a glimpse of his face as he
fell. I felt a tiny pang of guilt. I had just killed a boy, perhaps only 13 or
14. I thought about my son, just a few months too young to be fighting, almost
the same age as the dead boy. I wondered what he was doing right now. Was he
even thinking of me? I pushed my thoughts to the back of my head. There would
be time to think later. Or would they? Would I even be alive at the end of the
day?
As I ran from post to post, dodged, then ran again, I could hear
the hum of enemy warplanes, steadily approaching. I saw the first deadly bomb
of many that day fall from a plane. The world seemed to go in slow motion for
several moments. There were two soldiers under there. One was my best friend. I
couldn’t do anything. Just watch. As the bomb finally made contact with the
ground, it exploded. Bits of dust and rocks flew everywhere. A smell of burnt
flesh filled the air. It was repulsive. I wanted to vomit. I was filled with
remorse for my lost friend. But there was nothing I could have done.
