Dylan Riwai, Grade 10, Southern Cross District High School
The cold night air filled with terror. Screams of death from one man meet the fierce battle cries of another. The gas fills the trenches; gas masks aren’t available for us. Grenades, one after another, fill the trenches killing half a dozen men. Rifles, snipers and machine guns fill the atmosphere with death, guts flying airborne, blood stains the ground. Death is upon us all. Explosions create havoc causing land falls crushing our men. Cuts and wounds can’t be treated; blood stains the uniforms with copper. The dog tags of our dead men are rescued from their necks in the trenches; others are just left out in the war zone. Sniper rounds push through our forces. One by one our men fall to oblivion. Machine guns tear through the flesh of our troops; rapid death is created. All I can do is sit down, watch and grit my teeth, there’s no way I can prevent death… No way I can prevent this from all happening in the first place. Screams of grenades incoming force themselves through the air trying to out play the sounds of guns rattling, grenades exploding and screams before death. The sound waves begin to make my ear ache, the pain and agony is all I can feel. My heart thumping, pounding rapidly as if it were to explode. I begin to burn up; im feeling nauseous. Giant bombs of puke hurl from my mouth exiting rapidly without hesitation. That’s it I can’t take this anymore! These painful images will always stain my mind with death. I must end this for myself, the pain is to unbearable. I step up out of the trench. My brother yells for me to get back. I turn around when suddenly…
“Noooooo!” the sound of fear echoing from my brother begins to fade away as I drop .