Young Writers Society

You’re running away.

You’re running away.

My T-shirt was getting soaked because of all the blood that had come from my arm, I started to feel dizzy, but I managed to whip out my belt on the way and wrap it around the wound.

"Coward!!"

My legs felt numb, and my head was heavy, but at least I'd stopped bleeding.

I closed my eyes and blinked faster, trying to get all the dirt and tears out of my eyes, when I saw the barrel of a gun facing me.

Their dark blood was getting absorbed into the soil, and their eyes were open and blank, not seeing anything.

"You coward."

"Why did you run?"

"I am terrified."
"Then why are you here?"

I shuddered at the thought, even though I was trying ever so hard to keep my fear controlled.

"I had no choice."
I could immediately see in his eyes that that was not the right answer..

"Yes, you did. You know what is going on. You knew it. Why did you run?"

"I thought I was going to fight holograms, not real people."
"And why did you think this? We were attacked by an entire generation, wanting to destroy our race."
"And how do you know that?"

"What evidence do you need, boy? Can’t you see? They feed on the souls of the hopeless. They get their energy from murdering us, they feed on our fears."
"Then why are we fighting them? We can escape without losing hope, or lives."
"What do you know?! You know nothing. You want us to run away? Just like you, huh?"

"They will be happy to have your soul, you little bastard."

polinkacreations wrote:It’s easier to run. And I was.

polinkacreations wrote:It was as if I was in a realistic nightmare, but the pain in my arm was getting real

polinkacreations wrote:‘‘You’re running away’’.

polinkacreations wrote:I do not have the strength to pull the trigger on a living being, whether it be human or inhuman

Delem

I honestly thought I was doing the right thing.

It’s easier to run. So, I was.

As I ran faster and faster, my pride and determination faded into my fear.

‘‘You’re running away’’.

This thought kept flashing through my mind, but there was nothing I could do to stop myself. My instincts carried me forward, I could feel the hot blood rushing through me, and out of my arm.

Tears made everything look blurry, and the ground was dug up so I kept tripping. I wasn’t looking down, but forward, hoping for safety across the line. Loss of concentration, for barely a second made me trip once again, but this time I hit the ground with a painful landing on my wounded arm.

I cried out in pain, but I knew I had to get up, quick. I rolled over, but was met with dead, white eyes. Fear ran through my body, hitting every nerve. I jumped to my feet and shifted away from the body in horror. There were bodies everywhere, on the ground, near the fence. Some were still holding onto their guns, one even had a grenade. Their skin was slowly turning dark, and shiny, as if they were covered in paint. I turned away, shuddering from their stare.

I felt like I was stuck in a nightmare, which has been absorbing me, and all the happiness around me for the past month. And I could do absolutely nothing about it, the situation spun out of control weeks ago, and, sooner than I could react, I was lost in the arms of destiny.

I knew I had to get to safety, I wouldn’t get much further soon enough from all the blood loss, and I started running again.

It seemed I couldn’t hear a thing, I was deafened by the sounds around me. I ran past the faces I knew and didn’t know, and all of them staring into my eyes with hatred, anger, disappointment. To me, they all looked insane, blinded with rage and driven by fear. But I kept running. I didn’t want to turn back, I was afraid to see what I had left behind. I felt nothing, no pain, no tiredness. But I knew this was because the pain from my wound didn’t kick in yet, and my needs to survive were overriding all the fatigue.

‘‘You’re running away.’’

This was all I heard, all I thought of. Why was I running? Why? A part of me didn’t know why. All I knew was that I was trying to get away from this place. I couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t what I expected, what I went in here for. Everything around me twirled into disaster in a space of less than a month. My family, my love and my everything fell into darkness of fear. Suddenly, I remembered what it was like before the war. It wasn’t much better, but at least I knew I was safe when I stepped inside my house. I am in love, I had such high hopes, and all of it crashed into this. And here I am now, deserting. Running. Having tossed my gun aside, and turned my back on the enemy. I always thought I was strong, adventurous, and fearless. Oh, how wrong I was. I do not have the strength to pull the trigger on a living being, whether it be human or any other creature. Neither do I have the strength to stand up for what I believe. For the past month I have been obeying orders with no reason, no explanation. I just did what I was told, without even thinking why I was doing it. I was consumed with fear and I found safety in the eyes of the people who seemed like they knew what they were doing. I am such a fool...

My T-shirt was nearly all soaked because of all the blood that had come from my arm, I started to feel dizzy, but I managed to whip out my belt on the way and wrap it around the wound. I tripped again, and again, running past all those faces. Why was I running away? Was I...

‘‘Coward!!’’ I heard someone shout as I was running past the fence. Am I really a coward? Do cowards always run? Or was I just saving myself? I couldn’t stop myself, my mind somehow kept telling me I would die if I stopped, which wasn’t true but I believed it. I took the easy way, betraying all I’ve known. I tripped again, but this time slipping across the mud into a ditch.

I had hit my head pretty hard, so I passed out for what seemed like a couple of minutes, but when I opened my eyes, it was strangely quiet, and someone was sitting in front of me. It took quite a lot of strength for me to sit up. My legs felt numb, and my head was heavy, I’d stopped bleeding but the pain started kicking in. It was growing with my every move, stinging but stabbing inside me at the same time. I wiped my face, leaving mud marks all over it, then closed my eyes and blinked faster, trying to get all the dirt and tears out of my eyes, when I suddenly I saw the barrel of a gun facing me. I fell back, dragging myself helplessly out of the ditch. The man simply stood up and followed me up. I couldn’t stand up, but realized that this time I couldn’t escape - the man would not miss even if I wanted to run. The smoke had risen up into the sky which was already grey from ash, but now I could see more clearly. The ground was burnt out, and full of holes, there were guns and bodies everywhere. Their dark, congealed blood was getting sucked into the soil, and their eyes were open and blank, not seeing anything. It was truly a horrifying sight, and I felt myself wanting to throw up. The pain was growing stronger, and I found it harder to keep it under control.

I could hear footsteps in the distance, but otherwise it was too quiet. My ears were still blocked from all the sounds of war, the shells, the gunfire, and the screams of agony. I took a moment to stare at the man again. He could clearly see the fear in my eyes, but he pointed his gun upwards, ordering me to get up. I took the last of my strength to do so, and when I felt the ground under my feet again, the man spoke. His voice was low and hoarse, but full of disgust towards me.

‘‘You coward.’’

That word again. I could feel a droplet of sweat rolling down the side of my forehead, the blood became sticky and it was hard to separate my fingers. The controlling fear was slowly coming back as I stared into the barrel.

‘‘Why did you run?’’

There it was. I knew this question was to come up sometime. But I didn’t know the answer, so I simply said the truth:

‘‘I am terrified.’’

‘‘Then why are you here?’’

Another trick question. This time I took the time to think. The barrel of the gun was still pointed at me. At least he was aiming at the heart, it wouldn’t be a painful death. A shot and I would be gone. I shuddered at the thought, even though I was trying ever so hard to keep my fear controlled. I opened my mouth, slowly, and mumbled:

‘‘I had no choice.’’

I could immediately see that what I said was not the right answer. His eyes flashed anger, and I stepped away, once again trying to avoid the gun. The man, in turn stepped closer to me and replied:

‘‘Yes, you did. You knew what is going on. Why did you run?’’

As if I knew. Only I wished I knew what was going on. I didn’t have the chance to find out. Things turned out in such way that I was dragged into this war without even knowing why I was fighting. But I knew the punishment for deserting. I kept quiet this time, not knowing what to reply. The man was drilling me through with his cold, grey eyes, when I finally whispered, stuttering:

‘‘I thought I was going to fight holograms, not real people.’’

‘‘And why did you think this? We were attacked by an entire generation, wanting to destroy our race.’’

‘‘Were we?’’

As soon as the words slipped off my tongue, I knew that I had just crossed the line. Why did I say that? Why the hell did that slip out? The worst thing I could possibly do is speak my mind, and I had just done it. The pain in my arm was becoming unbearable, and all I could do is keep pushing it harder against my chest. The man kept staring, his finger moved closer to the trigger.

‘‘What evidence do you need, boy? Can’t you see? They feed on the souls of the hopeless. They get their energy from murdering us, they feed off our fears.’’

‘‘We can escape without losing hope, or lives.’’

I spoke more quietly now, keeping my head low, avoiding eye contact with, very possibly, my killer.

‘‘What do you know?! You know nothing. You want us to run away? Just like you, huh?’’

He was stepping closer towards me, but for some reason, my confidence kept growing. Maybe this was because I knew I was going to die anyways. I closed my eyes, ready for the shot, the last I’ll ever hear. The shot for being a coward. The shot for running away.

‘‘They will be happy to have your soul, you little bastard.’’