I wrote this story months ago. It was supposed to be a school work a friend of mine begged for me to do for his English class or something. Anyways, I've thought maybe some of you wanted to read this. This has no title I'm afraid for I had no idea on what title should I use at the time of writing. Enjoy and leave a comment if you want.
It was 2 in the afternoon and the sun was at its peak. Clean air has now been turned to the darkest smog. The once blue sky has now been turned into the bloodiest reflections. Corpses filled the road as I made my way to the only safe haven possible, the church. I saw not just one but thousands weep for their loved ones. I saw children frolicking in the church playground, not giving a care on how close death is. When I turn to the priest, he always gave a smile that tells us that everything will be alright but we all know that even he is losing faith at the almighty lord himself. For us, living in the middle of the war zone is like living in a hellhole. We live in a scenario wherein death is always behind us looking for his victim to take with him. Our riches, our homes, our trivial pursuits, we have left them all just to survive. All that we have now is our rations and our backs and a hope that rescue will come and take us away from this hellhole.
To keep us from thinking on how and when are we going to die, the priest always leaded prayers that would last for hours depending on how long will bullets fly. As we prayed for our lives, we could hear the radio operator proclaiming the same announcements over and over again. He keeps saying that there are still people left here wishing that a rescue would come. As we continued praying, the operator slammed the table with fury sending all papers in the sky. The priest gave the operator one of his famous smiles that seems to destroy any feeling of worry or fear. The operator surprisingly calmed down and quickly gathered the scattered papers and continued in summoning a rescue. While continuing with our prayers, explosions started erupting around us. The children started crying out loud while their mothers prayed like tomorrow will never come. Fathers kept their composure to show off their bravado but panicked like little children afterwards. I turned to the priest hoping that he will give me his famous calming smiles. To my surprise, he was on his knees in front of the large cross and kept on murmuring something that only he seemed to understand. I myself panicked and ran for covers under the tables and covered my ears hoping that the ringing explosions would stop. In the midst of our panicking, a child stood proud in front of the church doors and kept screaming at the area to stop with the continuous explosions. Surprisingly, the ringing explosions stopped and everything went calm once more. The priest has returned to his smiling old self and everyone returned to their daily duties like nothing have happened. The once proud child has disappeared from our sight and was never again found. The time now was 11 in the evening signaling that it was time for bed. The night was specially calm and silent. No bullets flew nor bombs exploding around us. For the first time in our life in this hellhole, we finally had a peaceful sleep.
It was 8 in the morning and we we’re woken up by grumbling children. As part of the survivors, I was forced to help serve breakfast to the others. As I boiled water in the large pot, the radio suddenly gave a loud buzz immediately calling all of our attention. The voices on the other line were hard to understand because of all the interference but the operator managed to decode the transmission. Once the transmission had ended, the operator slammed the table once more and tears fell down his eyes. The operator turned to all of us with a look of despair. He told us what the transmission contained into three words “Rescue is impossible”. We all lost hope. The operator told us that we we’re at the very middle of the war zone. Ergo, no soldier had the guts to charge in and save us all from death. The priest suddenly popped out from nowhere and suggested that we should just leave this hellhole and head for somewhere safe. The operator suggested that we should head for the hills since the closest military base is there. We all knew that our chance of surviving the journey was a long shot but we we’re out of options so we all agreed. All of us didn’t know that the journey ahead would end up killing us all in an instant.
The time was 1 in the afternoon and everything was packed. The journey towards the hill was exactly a 3 hour walk from the church. All of us we’re exactly 20 people including me. As we all made our way through the streets, the priest held his rosary tightly and prayed hard as he could. Some of the mothers tried to pray with him but it seems that the priest didn’t give any attention to them. Continuing our walk down the streets, we could see dozens of corpses around us. Tanks, guns, ammo, med kits, they we’re everywhere but no sign of life even showed up. The smell of death was horrid. If there was anything alive besides us, it would be the flies gathering around the rotting corpses. I and other children were ordered to close our eyes to avoid us from seeing the complete horrors of war. I couldn’t see a thing and when I try to peek, one of the mothers would immediately grab my hand and cover my eyes again. All I know is that the smell was too horrid too describe.
After a while, they finally told us to open our eyes. The scenery now is cleaner than before. We couldn’t see a single corpse lying around the streets. There we’re no instruments of war standing in the streets to strike us with fear. There was nothing, just a continuous silence a constant fear that something might pop out from nowhere and kill us all. Still, we continued with our journey which was only half an hour left. We we’re at the very entrance of town and we looked back one last time to our former homes which is now nothing but ashes. Tears ran down from our eyes while bidding farewell to our homes. We continued with our walking. We started to get more anxious since we we’re close to our destination. Suddenly, the operator screamed with joy and started pointing at a military base camp not far from here. The proud child from yesterday suddenly popped out from behind us and screamed at us to stop. We all looked back at him with anger and asked why. His answer was cold as any ice can be. “You all are walking towards your final destination”. All of us except for me laughed out loud while continuing with our walk. The boy walked back to town but I tried to chase him to tell him to come with us. While chasing him, he suddenly went in a corner and disappeared in an instant. Asking myself on how it happened, I ran back to the others to tell them what happened. When I finally chased up with the others, all of them we’re dead on the spot. The priest, the operator, fathers, mothers, children, all of them we’re dead. I looked at the perpetrators only to see a bunch of soldiers aiming their rifles at me. It seemed that the operator had led us to the enemy military base camp wherein they are all full of merciless killers. I was down on my knees crying for my life until a soldier walked towards me. He then took out a pistol and shot me at point blank.
And this is our tale. We should have followed the child’s advice and turn back but we let our own feelings took over the best of us and led us to our own bloody grave.
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