Asked to Serve My Country

To be engaged in war is to be engaged in an armed conflict. Death is an all too ordinary product of war. It is an unsolicited reward for many soldiers that are fighting for their country’s own fictitious freedom. For some of these men, the battlefield is a glimpse into hell, and for others, it is a means to heaven. Many people worry about what happens during war and what will become of their loved ones while they’re fighting, but few realize what happens to those soldiers once they come home. The short stories "Soldier's Home” by Ernest Hemingway and "Speaking of Courage” by Tim O'Brien explore the thematic after effects of war and how it impacts a young person's life. Young people who

As my car climbed the hill, my heart sunk into my stomach. I parked as far away from my friends as I could and quickly exited the car, not once looking at them. Now it was every man for himself. Emerging into the open air, I suddenly became aware of myself. I could feel my puffy, blood-shot eyes. My palms became slimy. My fingers clinched into a fist and my nails dug into my skin. My sight blurred and my tunnel of vision tried to focus on the front door. Every step seemed more awkward than the last. Eyes pierced me from all sides. I felt naked. My body trembled like a sheep in the midst of wolves.

Serving the United States Military comes with many responsibilities as well as pressure and accountability. However, the military isn’t for everyone, but it offers so much for those who serve. One thing that must be known and dealt with is that this career could be a life threatening one, and there are many obstacles one must go through beforehand.

I could hear my breathing as if it was a voluntary action. As I saw my mom car come screeching into the driveway, she rushed out, I ran up to her as I tearfully asked, "Is he okay?" With hesitancy and a sorrow- filled voice she said, "He's dead," I screamed over and over again, "No, no, not my brother! Anyone but him!" and I broke down crying, I felt as if I was paralyzed, I felt like I was suffocating; as if a giant hand was clamped around my heart, I wanted to run, I wanted to scream, I wanted for it to not be

When the gunshot rang through my ears, I, as well as everyone around me was stunned in confusion, fear, and lack of comprehension. They looked around to see where the bullet had landed and noticed him, a man in his late forties looking down at his stomach. The hand that covered the area was stained with a thick, dark red color that coated his clothing. The crowd drew away from him as he fell to his knees, just realizing that he’d been shot and he was going to die. When he looked up at the police, they looked away, ashamed of their actions and unaware of the impact his death would have on his family, his friends.

My father finally spoke up and said abruptly, we are moving to California. I said what!. That answer moving to California, was almost equal to my uncle telling me "Your Sister Jackie is dead." I knew that my girlfriend, my anchor on earth was disappearing from my life. And now she was gone, 35 days after I lost my sister. My earth angle, I dreamed of being my wife was gone. I felt like I was having a nightmare and couldn't wake up, how could all this be happening to me. Despair sit like a stone in my stomach, like concrete boots dragging me toward what felt like my inevitable end. "I'm not going to make it. "I was in a state of melancholy depression.Laced with a fatal sense of my own wretchedness. I was fourteen years old and felt like I was

Then I volunteered for Vietnam, at age twenty-two in 1963, nine months after I was first discharged. “ I join the war because I felt like it had previously served and made it out”. In 1966, the air war entered a new phase. Hanoi and Hai phong waited for the first time. Cries of exclamation and dissent really were worn out through the US and around the world. By the end of 1966, fighting had reached major proportions. Over 55,000 communist, 9,500 South Vietnamese, and 6,053 u.s. soldiers were killed in action.”

As an individual who cherishes and appreciates the freedom the United States provides to no end, it is hard to pinpoint a single action to fulfill such a large obligation to keep this country free. There is certainly a balance in which the citizens of the United States maintain freedom. Not every individual who practices their freedom returns the favor by also protecting it. This is where some men and women take the place of those who don't, going beyond what is needed to serve the freedom this country stands for.

Driving to Long Beach with my family, I watched the trees and cars zoom past. Suddenly, as my heart began to pound throughout my whole body, I felt my chest and throat tighten and my muscles stiffen. My brain shut out my surroundings and focused on the panic setting in. Sweat dripped down my palms as I gripped the car handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. Disorientation followed and I was consumed by fear, transported to an empty, helpless space. I had passed the thin line that separated composure and panic. By the time we got to the apartment, I was relieved to have a change of surroundings as I stumbled out of the car. I was shaking when I got out and rushed inside the apartment to calm myself down.This was one of many more panic attacks

I was drifting through life and I was scared to stop for fear that if I did my life would. On June 8th I received my report card and it was bad then my dad called me screaming and called me stupid; and at the moment I did feel what he said. I went home crying and messed up my room I tore the pictures of my wall I threw my cover off the bed and just sat in it. Usually when I feel I am about to have a panic attack I watch youtube videos on my tv and I stumbled across a

I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. But if I wasn't there I might still be alive. It was cold outside, colder than normal. I shivered as I stumbled through the all too familiar forest path. I like to walk through here at night, it gives me time to think. Something seemed off about tonight. Something wasn't right. It might have been the sudden change in weather, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. My breath started to hitch. I could feel the blood running through my veins. My fingers started to tighten as my heart beat against my chest. I sat against a tree and looked to my left. What

I hung up. They could be okay, I thought. I just need to care for them. I looked at Chase. He was still buckled. His head was in an unnatural position and there was blood dripping down his face. Everyone was like this. Unlike me they were all tall. I am only five feet so my head must have missed the ceiling. I heard voices from outside the car. I Didn't want anyone to see me here. I did not deserve to live. The grief of the situation had not hit me yet. Maybe I did not believe it or maybe I had hit my head and gone mad, but how could they be dead and not me. I opened the door and outside was blinding so I went back in. And I heard a

When the first bullet hit my chest, I thought of my family. As I fell to the ground, my horrendous, and troublesome memories rushed through my head like a flood. The pain and agony, all flashed before my eyes. I didn’t know what to do or how this all happened, but it felt as if it all happened, short days ago.

Growing up I had a happy life,I had a nice home a perfect family and i was healthy . to me my life was perfect,but at the age of 14 everything turned grey , my sunshine has been replaced by dark bulky clouds that made my life darker and dark by the day . I remember it well it was my freshman year of high school, the day of our homecoming parade I was so excited because I was going to walk with FBLA . As I sat there in class counting down the minutes, the hours till it began I remember feeling incredibly light headed .I couldn't even stand then BAM I collapsed to the floor, my teacher standing over me “ Maria !Are you okay can you hear me ??!”

I could barely breathe. Panicking and sweating, I walked out of the restroom and tried to think of places where my family could’ve gone to. When I exited the restroom and turned the corner, the hallway looked more like an abandoned ghost town. Fortunately, anyone who passed by me didn’t bother to care that I was alone. Then when I realized something, my heart sank. I had this hole in my heart that could never be replaced because I realized that I had slipped from their minds, being forgotten. Even my own