The Flee.

• Jemma Hunter, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2011

All I hear is the sound of gunshots it is my turn to run, out of the boat and on to the hill but I am not scared I am determined to make it. Jonathan’s body is still lying in the boat beside me drained from life he was only young the youngest of the lot but he did not make it nor did many others. I jump out of the boat and run for my life, quite literally I see the bunker up ahead. The hardest part isn’t dodging the thousands of bullets it is dodging the bodies of many much loved soldiers. This is war death is what happens but I cannot help but cry yes I made It but so many others haven’t. No one seems to care, care that they are lying with dead bodies but why should they care the are risking their own lives just like the dead did. I suck up my tears as they are not helping me nor are many of my troop they are to busy defending fire from south terrain but what they do not realize is that turkey have started surrounding us firing from north and east. I have successfully buried myself in the bunker I didn’t realize what a disadvantage the terrain could be, the enemy are all around us firing endlessly. I wait and wait no one dares to move. Some shoot back but most are too cautious. We finally have some luck in this war the Turkish have to redirect because they have entered no-mans-land and there is too much barbwire and traps. Whilst they are redirecting me and what is left of my troop make a move back to the boat. I know we are chickening out but this isn’t a war we can fight we are disadvantaged and unless I want to lie their next to Jonathan there is nothing else I could do. We finally make it to the boat there are only a couple left they are the ones that couldn’t leave, we have to pull bodies out just so we can all fit. So off we go we flee, flee in silence either to scared from this mass murder or too ashamed that we could not help.