A Fight For Freedom

• Neeve Taia, Grade 8, John Paul College
• Short Story
• 2022

Excellence Award in the 'Summertime Fun ONLINE' competition

Blood splattered the field, saturating the daisies that scattered the meadow in crimson. The screams of fallen soldiers filled the air, each a chord in the melody of death, the last scream gurgled into a silence that was quickly filled by my enemy’s approach. I was alone. The air was heavy with the scent of blood, violating my nostrils. Corpses scattered the ground each not a warning but a prediction, for there could be no escape. My family, the twin brothers my mother could not feed, my death would sign theirs, I had to fight.
Run.
They sprinted after me; dogs on a scent, herding me so that my only hope lay on the other side of a minefield. Their depraved laughter stretched after me as I darted through the all-encompassing smoke. “Nowhere to run boy! Nowhere but hell!” He was right, I was nothing but a boy amidst a war that could never truly be won. I fought for my family, for life.
And so, I ran. Flying through the minefield as they fired shot after shot. Tears blurred my vision as I ran, the jackals laughter echoing after me. “RUN LITTLE BIRD!” Seventeen years of life narrowed down to each step, each breath, somehow, I’d never felt so free. It is on the line between life and death that one feels most alive. I ducked and weaved impossibly untouched.
The impact of the bullet buckled my unprepared knees. “Sweet bird, where are you hiding?” Each of my breaths echoed hollowly in my ears as I bound my arm with bandage from a pocket. My vision went white as I tightened it, barely keeping the scream from my tongue. I growled at the effort of pulling my gun from my back and firing a shot from behind rubble. Pain ripped through me at the recoil – almost sending me under. I bit down on my lip to muffle a scream. I didn’t dare check if the shot had landed. “You’ll pay for that bird!” The soldier screamed, anger making him finally take a step into the field after me. Emboldened his friends followed, bringing with them the sudden clarity that if I didn’t move, I would surely die.
Braving the recoil once more I fired again. The bullet went wide, ricocheting off metal and exposing my location. A part of me crumbled for it was over. There could be no more running. I steadied myself against the knowledge my gun rising one last time. I made eye contact with a soldier, beginning to smile he stepped forward, his own gun rising. “Hello little bir—”
BOOM. The explosion shattered through the ground, and I was on the floor, my vision blacking out. My head was spinning when I rose, the rubble surrounding me was smouldering, nothing remained of the men. I stared then to the edge of the field where the daisies swayed. Forcing myself to rise I staggered painfully forward.
Finally free.