Handling Thoughts

• Patricia Cottrell, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2017

It was an early, rainy morning. It was a time where long ago I should’ve been in bed, watching the delicate drops of water silently fall to the ground below. Now I was up and running, literally. Running for my life as the gunshots crack the air and hit my unfortunate crew. The rain beats upon us mercilessly and blurs our eyesight dramatically as we stumbles onto fast-flowing creeks. My burdensome jacket seems to be getting heavier all the time with the water droplets finding its way into the wool. Finally, I can take it no longer as I fall with a crash into a river that lies beneath me. Struggling for air, I gulp a quick breath before my head goes under. Underneath the water, I can hear the distant gunshots and the screaming of pain from our crew. I hear my devastating thoughts loud and clear as I continue to drift. Die. If you die, your worries will be gone and your troubles will be no more. I then remembered my 18 past years. The day that my parents died when I was 14 due to sickness. The day that my birth date was called out when I was just 16. My life has changed so much from when I was just a 5 year old. Why is it worth it? Why do I need to waste my time doing everything for a life that gave me nothing? This is it. This is the turning point for my life. To give up on it, or to give it my best no matter how hard it is. Then, something clicked inside of my mind. My parents wouldn’t want this, my friends wouldn’t want this, and I wouldn’t want this. As a matter of fact, I won’t have this! My experience in the squad that had taught me how to hold my breath for long periods of time had finally paid off.
Taking off my only protection (the jacket) against the enemy, I reached over and grabbed my gun as I frantically kicked my way out of the treacherous currents. Climbing my way off the bank, I forgot how cold the wind was. Knocked aback, I almost fell back in. You’ll never make it. Give up before you die a terrible death. Drowning is the only way out. Anger clouded my mind as I gritted my teeth, wishing that I could kill those wretched thoughts. Climbing up again, I raced towards the enemy. Shooting frantically, I led my friends to the opposite side. I didn’t care anymore about how painful it was going to be. I just didn’t care if I was going to end up as a prisoner in a concentration camp. If we lost, well then I wouldn’t know. All I knew was how I was going to be recognised; a soldier with the uttermost determination, courage and perseverance, no matter how hard the matter of the circumstance.