Being tied up on a pole was not what I expected. I struggled with my hands tied behind me as bombs were being dropped all around. I saw my life flash before my eyes.I struggled to stay alive.
Wind swished back and forth making my spine shiver. The dark clouds came upon me and drips of rain started pouring. The world was at war and it was about to end and I didn’t know if this was a dream or if this was reality. Every second my heart pumped harder and harder, louder and louder. I knew in time I would pass out.
I opened my eyes and saw an ammunition dump. What was I meant to do with a hole full of ammo? Through the foggy clouds I saw a dark mysterious shadow as if it was going to take over my soul. The gloomy clouds started to surround the shadow, and after a few seconds the shadow disappeared.
“Who are you?” I called out in confusion.
“My name is Robin, a guard who works for the military!” a man replied.
“SILENCE!!” as another guard yelled out to me and Robin.
My mouth closed and everything was silent but the only thing going through my mind was family memories. My health started to weaken every single second. The wind swished harder and harder. Bombs were still dropping, somehow they missed me. I hoped that this was a dream. I closed my eyes and hoped that everything would vanished. When I then opened them and could still see the bombs being dropped and the gloomy weather still surrounded me. The pole was still standing as if it were a never ending tree. I didn’t know what else to do other then hope to God that I would stay alive. Even though it seemed impossible. Soon the air was filled with dust and dirt. The cuffs that had tied my hands caused enormous pain.
Just before I was about to faint, I was taken off the pole. My hands had turned purple from the icy cold weather. They felt numb and were congested with blood. As I looked down my hands were gushing a stream of blood from the cuts I got while hanging. The blood wouldn’t stop and later I felt light-headed. The sun started to appear through the grey clouds. As I walked away I realised that being in the war is not adventurous as everyone thought it would be. In my mind, I was thinking about how close I came to dying and how I could have lost my battle.
By:Faith
Room 5 and I have been writing a Narrative on a unsung hero. I have chosen Archibald Baxter and I will be giving it in to The Elsie Locke Writing Prize 2016. The theme is People and Protest.
http://www.elsielocketrust.org.nz/
