Craig shifted in his seat; the wooden chair was so uncomfortable. He was in a corridor, lined with identical chairs occupied by more young men of about his age. The corridor smelled like polish and floor cleaner, and was painted a dull grey and cream. A few feet away stood a tough looking soldier, immaculately dressed in a dark green uniform and carrying a large wooden cane. Every few minutes a light bulb hanging above a doorway would flash, a buzzer would sound and the soldier jabbed the man sitting closest to him with his cane.
Craig heard the buzzer yet again and saw the flashing light reflected on the wall opposite. The soldier turned to the nearest young man and prodded him in the middle of his chest with the cane.
“You --- in there,” he said. Craig had heard him use that phrase repeatedly.
The young man in question stood up and opened the door as the others before him had done. He went inside and the door closed.
“Move up!” shouted the soldier, another frequently repeated instruction.
The man now nearest to the soldier stood up and moved to the vacated chair. Everyone else in the line followed suit, moving nearer to his fate. Craig was now only two chairs away from the door, the sinking sensation in his stomach intensified and he started to bite his fingernails. The man ahead of him in the queue did not seem to know what to do with his hands; he put them on his head, under his chin, behind his neck, on his knees and in his lap.
There was no clock in the corridor
They were immediately surrounded by three soldiers, who attempted to remove one of the men's brown coats, but they were pushed away as he undressed himself. The guards surrounded him again as they grasped his hands. The man tried to fight them off, but was pacified by his friend’s calming words. He leaned on his friend’s arm as they were escorted toward the scaffold waiting for them at the center of the field. They climbed hesitantly up the stairs, and with a deep breath, the man let go of his friend’s arm, and ran to the edge of the scaffold.
As he maneuvers through he thinks not only of his fate, but also of how, “it should protect me, and especially as Death himself lies in it too7.” The brave soldier realized death could come at any moment, and it is practically lying right next to him. The young troop has become aware and vulnerable to death, just like the soldiers fighting in Afghanistan and Iran. Because soldiers witness the physical traumas of other man or themselves their lives are never the same at home. The mentally struggling soldiers often rub off on their family, affecting them as a whole.
Blank veteran faces examined Rupert. He was curled up on the bar stool like a small fetus. Tears blurred his vision; his knuckles were clenched and white. He stood up from his stool.
Tomorrow when the war began: Monologue Rationale Good morning/afternoon everyone. Today, my monologue will consist of a scene from tomorrow when the war began. I will be taking on the perspective of Mr Clement, who is a dentist in the town of Wirrawee. He wakes up in the hospital one day and remembers everything that has happened.
“Wake up, Soldier!” shouted a man. The boy awoke with a start, knocking his drum over in the process. He noticed people bustling about all around him while they pulled on boots and helmets.
SLURP! I drink what must be my 15th drink of the night. I’m trying to drink away my thoughts. Did I actually see MoSean murder Andy, or was that just a figment of my imagination? I think to myself as I gulp down the rest of my wine, I think I’m just too drunk. There is NO way that innocent little MoSean killed Andy. I suddenly drop to the floor, my head pounding. “I think it’s time for me to call it a night and retreat to my quarters. CREAK! I enter my room and close the door, which in return screams another CREAK! As I fall like a corpse onto my bed, I think to myself, I have got to get something done about that door. It’s death to my ears.
The man staggered back in shock, clawing at the injection sight, “But, sir, I-wait, no, sir, no-I—” The soldier doubled over and screamed, grasping his head with both hands. His skin became a slickly shade of brown, his hair fell out in clumps, and his mass began to increase with disquieting slurping and crunching sounds. Then the soldier fell to his knees.
“Where were you, soldier?” demands Sergeant Emerson as he raises his rifle. The man’s brown eyes widen with fear, while he searches the soldiers’ faces for someone he knows. Everyone remains rigid, but out of the corner of my eye I notice a
Four Union soldiers barged in. Each had their gun raised. The first soldier barked at Oscar. But he didn’t respond. Oscar just stood there with his hands raised above his head. He looked the first soldier dead in the eyes. I watched the first soldier squint his eyes into tiny slits. The other three soldiers were searching the bunker but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Oscar. I was so focused on Oscar that I didn’t see one of the soldiers coming toward the bookshelf. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me onto the ground, hard. I turned my body to look at Oscar. The first soldier raised his gun and spoke again, but I wasn’t listening to what he said.
Suddenly he jumped up, tears continuing to roll down his cheeks when another dead body had came walking down the hallway. This time was his friend.
Tears now streamed down my face as I thought of my family, but my voice remained strong and powerful. There was one soldier left. He was curled up against a wall and looked amazingly young. Only 18. Poor sod. I thought to myself. His once green eyes were now bloodshot and bulging. He didn't want to die, not today.
He struggled to find comfort for his back, and couldn’t help wincing. He heaved a sigh of agony and placed his head on the pillow, lied on his back, rather uncomfortably, closed his beady eyes and speechlessly waited for that moment to arrive. Heavy footsteps ware approaching. Their shoes clap rhythmically on the floor.
The room looked sterile and the middle part of the room is surrounded by thick glass that separated it from the rest of the room. The darkness of the room, covered whatever it was beyond the thick glass. The room definitely gave a serious and dangerous feel to those who were in it. Everyone looked at us. I looked at the team of fleshies who immediately saluted me as a superior officer. I saluted back. "At ease gentlemen," I commanded, making the soldiers sit down in unison. I looked at Parker and waited for him to start his briefing.
“Ah you’re finally back” he was greeted by two friendly faces John and Kyle, they were a few years both older and more experienced than him. “You took your time down there. Get scared or something?" Andrew was the newest guard squad here as he had just come of age to join them, never having done anything like this before as he had only been on the job for around two weeks. Before this, he was working as a waiter at the local bar lounge area. His friends found it amusing to tease him about not being as good or as fast as the others yet.
The man’s insane eyes stare us down from the crack of the door. I can detect his wrinkles turning up, showing that he is smiling at us. My brother and I lay limp on the floor; pretending that we are weak. My stomach churns as I consider about what they are going to do now. The metal door slams open and a sea of white suited soldiers come at us. Each of the soldiers forcefully yanks us up and locks our hands behind our back. My mind snapped and in an instant, I turned around and tackled the soldier holding my hands. I aimed for his neck, and bit down as vigorously as I could. I felt his blood enter me; it tasted sweet and it energize me. I bite down more harder, until I heard the cracking of his cervical. He lets out a sharp, piercing