A little backstory: I wrote this for an English assignment in school. Like all authors, I see parts of it that definitely need some work. But my family (after they convinced me to read this story to them) convinced my to share it here. So i kinda thought “why not”? Anyways, hope you enjoy.

TW: guns and violence

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Weeks, months, years, oh how long I have been gone! My family must be missing me, yes-- did I even have a family? I laughed, for I could not remember! Such an odd thing, the mind. I mean, you’d think I remember my own family, right? So alas, I was mostly alone. I say mostly, because I did get visits from soldiers quiet often. They all told me that I “wasn’t well”, but that just wasn’t true. Perfectly sane, I was, and perfectly healthy too.

The battlefield was dark tonight, yes, very dark indeed. I could just barely make out the floral wallpaper of what seemed to be a bedroom, but that was just preposterous! This was the battlefield! The wind rustled moonlit curtains as I sat, sat, sat, never leaving my chair, my trench, even when chills rocked down my spine. It seemed that I was the only soldier in my world tonight, I was on watch duty. 

I kept my eyes keen as they studied the peeling wall, and there! Right there! Mounted on the wall, crawling over the horizon, was an enemy soldier, it was! Coming to kill me, no doubt. I fumbled for my gun, which sat on my lap. The sleek metal felt wonderful, powerful,  in my hands as I shot- _BANG BANG BANG! _Three shots buried in the soldiers head, noise richocaing off the trench walls!

Safe, I thought I was. Yet fate was cruel, and war was deadly. A great calvary of enemies pounded up stairs and into my line of sight! I was taken aback, for the enemy looked like only a mere woman! But I knew not to be fooled, for my keen eyes soon looked past the disguise and saw it for what it was, enemy! It had with it a great tin shield, one which was then placed on the musty ground. I yelled, screamed, for this was surendure, surely! Yet the soldier quickly left, opening a door and disappearing from the battlefield altogether. 

Inspected the shield, I did, and found it was filled with rations! Oh, the sweet smell of bread and porridge! Quickly- yes, very quickly- I inhaled the food so that no crows could peck their evil beaks at it. The food’s warmth filled my lonesome stomach. I then stumbled back to my trench- to the chair that kept me in this battlefield. I’d dug the trench, built the chair myself, and it was a mighty fine one. Strong- indeed it was. Never failed me, had it. 

But missed a smoke bomb, I must’ve, for my trench began to fill with smoke! My eyes clouded, and I screamed, I wailed! Darkness reached out its lukewarm hand as I was escorted into the realm of unconsciousness.

The next time I awoke it was sunlight, not moonlight, streaming through the curtains. I was taken aback by the destruction around me. The frame of the soldier I had shot and the tray of the departed enemy litter the ground around me. For a split second, I could swear it was hard wood- but I knew better. This was the battlefield, it would always be. Nothing but dirt and blood littered this ground.

Today was a quiet one- yes. Not much action so far, quiet the blessing, it was. But oh, I should've known better. No day was ever a calm one during the Great War. 

“Father? Father, it’s me, Raymond. Can I come in?” There was something in that voice, something that warmed me like the food had. And though I knew it was dangerous, very dangerous indeed, yet I needed to see the face which the voice belonged to.

“Y-yes.” My voice was like sandpaper from all the screaming and shouting of orders I'd done on the battlefield. However, who could blame me? I was only protecting my world.

The door creaked open furtively- yes- as if the opener wanted not to frighten even a hare. From the misty shadows of the creaking door emerged a young boy- odd, it was. For why was a child on the battlefield? That I was quite unsure of, yes. This boy looked familiar- almost like… Oh, but of course! I had a young boy at home, by the name of Raymond. He must’ve been around the age of this boy before me. 

He wattled in unsurely, as if he was scared of me. Oh, what minds children had! I would neer hurt a sweet boy, never never never. To prove this to him, I opened my arms unsurely, welcoming him into an embrace.

A grin broke out across his young face, and he rushed into my waiting arms. 

“Father! Father! Oh, I missed you!” He squealed as I engulfed his squirming boy into a long awaited embrace. 

He buried his soft head in my chest. I didn’t care if he was but a lost child in a warzone, he reminded me of my son, my boy Raymond. Oh, how I missed him.

I shook as I hugged him, tears pooling in my eyes dripping into his hair. Yes, I shook , shook, shook, rocking back and forth, back and forth, in my chair. It reminded me of the battlefield, of the bombs that had rained down on my trench and rumbled the ground. Oh, the tench! Battlefield! I wasn’t safe here, no, no, no. Nowhere was safe during the Great War. And this boy before me, this soldier in my arms! Why had I allowed him so close to myself? He was dangerous, very dangerous indeed! He could kill me any moment!

I pushed him away from me, and took aim with my gun! It was odd, though. He backed up quickly and pleaded with me as if I was his father! He begged me to let him go, saying that he’d be a good boy, yes, do all his chores. But I offered no mercy, no mercy indeed! This was a soldier who had come to kill me, but I wouldn’t let him, no! Not me! I shot the soldier, I did! He fell to the ground quickly, screaming and crying. Oh, how weak this one was! He’d been trained for war, yet couldn’t bear to suffer its consequences. He squirmed on the ground, whales piercing the air as he called out for his mother. 

But then there was stomping, yes, much stomping. More soldiers, coming to finish me off! But I wouldn’t let them, no! I’d get them first! I readied my gun once again, prepared to shoot whoever dared come close to my trench. A soldier called for it’s comrade. Odd, it was. The soldier sounded like a woman, and she called in a panicked voice for her boy, Raymond. Funny, how that name seemed familiar. The soldier barged through the door, face aghast as it gazed wearily upon the face of the soldier I had just shot. Laughed, yes, I laughed maniacally at the soldiers. This was war, of course there would be casualties! I raised my gun, ready to defend my trench, my chair! 

I studied the soldier as it stood over the body of the one I attacked. Something seemed to die in its eyes. Like the last of a fading candlelight had finally been snuffed out. Quickly, yes, swiftly indeed, the soldier tenderly picked up the writhing body of the fallen soldier and carried it away. I laughed again, brandishing my weapon,  for I had become so scarily gruesome that the other soldier feared me, it didn't dare cross me!

I was unsure how long I stayed laughing for, time passes much differently in the trench! Hours, days, weeks, who knows? They all fade together into murky memories either way. But at some point the curtains and sunlight were replaced with moonlight and the murky battlefield became even darker. The soldier from before had slipped me more rations, oh how generous! I’d killed it’s comrade, yet it still bothered to feed me. What an odd twist of fate, it was. Inhaled the rations quickly, yes. Almost like a street hound would swallow down scraps whole. 

But this night in the trench was different, yes. Very different indeed. Tonight, smoke bombs went off! They clouded my vision, not allowing for any light to pass. No longer could I see the trench, or room, or chair! It was all just the same darkness as I slipped quickly into the oblivion I had been walking on the edge of for some time now. Left alone with only my thoughts, I was. What an odd feeling, to be alone with only one's self. Of course, I'd been physically alone for a while, but I'd always been able to hear clamor from the battlefield below me. But not even they remained. It was a feeling I could not explain, as if sitting in the calm before the storm, where not even the birds dared to reach me. All was silent in my small circle, and I could feel the imminent doom looming over me, and was helpless to stop it. All I could do was sit, watching, waiting, rocking in my chair, in my trench, until death finally escorted me into his waiting arms.

It was odd, I slowly lost the feeling of my legs on the chair, then my arms on the gun, until I was left feeling nothing at all. Finally, I’d reached a level of peace I hadn't believed possible. Soon, even thoughts almost seemed to… get heavier. As if… they were treading through… deep mud.

I called out, in the… hoarse, silent voice… “Raymond… Judy… please… come home… miss you… I… do.”

In my final moments, clarity seemed to come. I still couldn’t see through the murkiness of my mind, yet I was at peace. It was finally over…yes.