Creative Writing: Kaylin Otis

The month is December and the year is 1777. I have been brought to Valley Forge with the other soldiers. I have been told that there is a little sickness spreading around, but nothing serious. Ever since the Boston Massacre erupted I have become angry at the British for putting us through these unfair conditions. This is why I joined the army, but when I went to Valley Forge and when the unexpected struck I didn’t care about the British anymore. What I had to worry about was survival throughout the winter.

Tonight is our last night in Valley Forge. General Washington says we’re moving out sometime tomorrow. The British had left Philadelphia and there are plans for us to zone in. After being stationed here for six months, I can’t say that I’ll miss it. If the British army had seen us during the first few winter months, they would have assumed that their work was all but done. They would only have to wait until all fourteen-hundred of us all died off or packed up and went home. The winter in Valley Forge was tough; there was a limited amount supplies and illness was common, but General Washington kept us together and Baron von Steuben helped turn us into an army to look out for.

Laurel nodded her head when she heard that Zinda would be willing to aid her in her efforts of keeping the city running smoothly. “With that attitude I think Ryder will love you.” She stated with a small laugh, her head shook from side to side. “Even before the outbreak I always had a hard time sleeping.” She reached her right hand up and placed it against the back of her neck, rubbing at it. “So it really doesn’t bother me all that much.” She nodded her head. She knew what Zinda said was true, that she should try and sleep more but that seemed easier said than done. She really tried to sleep at night sleep just seemed to elude her, it was never there when she really need it. Like the night they got back from the Farmhouse, all she wanted to do was fall asleep and forget the whole events that had taken place there. Sadly that didn’t happen, she stayed up all night thinking about how she could have done thing differently, that she should have stayed with Kate.

I've fought in many wars, I've seen many men here and go, but nothing stands out to me more than how I impacted my men during the Civil War. The Civil War was a dark time for my men and myself; We faced countless attacks every day and we slowly one by one deteriorated away into a small unit of men. Some of my men withered the storm of the many battles we fought, while others were there and then gone before the next sunrise of the following morning. I loved to lead my men into battle and show them the path to victory. Sometimes that didn't happen, though, and we faced a numerous amount of losses that I would usually lose track of. I had never lost a greater sum of men, though like I did in the battle of Gettysburg. It was a warm sunny morning

If he had been human, everything would have been easier. Hal's life would have been so much better; he wouldn't have been forced to fight, or be controlled by the code in his head. He would have grown into a different, maybe better person. But then, they would still be stuck in the compound, still there when the bots had malfunctioned, and they may have not even escaped. Perhaps they would have died an untimely death and not have escaped into the wastes and would be left to rot in the desecrated compound, forgotten, and the only sign they were there were their desecrated skeletons, and even those would be ground away by the sands of time until they eventually became nothing. It was a pity that they would meet that fate regardless; Dirk would

“General William Howe” I heard over the sound of the howling wind through the valley. “Yes lieutenant,” I mustered. “Do you have any food to spare.” “No lieutenant, I do not,” I said apologetically. I was sitting in a shallow ditch around the tiny fire. The ice and snow feeling like tiny needles on my skin. As I looked around me at the other soldiers, all I saw were the faces of desolation and despair. The wind whipped across my face chilling my bones, reminding me just how cold it was. This winter was one of the worst I'd ever seen. It was relentless, and it showed no signs of stopping. Everyday that passed more people were falling sick to illnesses and starving. People were dying by the tens and supplies weren't supposed to arrive until February. Washington is even struggling to keep his army united and strong. It’s at the point that he will let the men leave to come back in the spring. Just as I was about to stand up to clear my head, I heard the strong and pronounced voice of Washington. “Gather around now,” he hollered politely to us. Almost immediately the men rose to their feet and started walking. “I have something to tell all of you,” said Washington. “These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated. Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right, but "to bind us in all cases whatsoever" and if being bound in that manner, is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the expression is impious; for so unlimited a power can belong only to God.” I then realized Washington had just read Thomas Paine’s The Crisis. I just stood still as it

“The sea and the sky are the same,” uncle always said. At the time he had laughed, but looking out that morning; the cold sea mist clinging to my clothes, I knew he was right.

Jim then left his spot at the computer and went to put on his white lab coat before he ushered over to a storage closet in search of an apron.

It was dark when I arrived at the village. People were going about their nightly chores before they retired for the night. They quickly escorted me to the wigwam of a woman who was in labour.

Eleanor doesn’t dodge the second punch. It hits her ear and she crumbles to the floor. The stench of blood takes over her senses and makes her head spin. A sharp kick to her ribs makes her scream. Eleanor isn’t used to physical beatings such as this --  emotional yes, but not physical. Bodily pain is something she doesn’t know how to deal with.

A child runs inside a small classroom gathering his thoughts wondering what he saw. Bewildered by what he had just seen he had become so frightened he hadn’t realized his hands were shaking. Collecting his thoughts he remembered that he heard a banging on a door someone opened it and a man with patches of flesh missing ran up and bit the student who opened the door. Dumbfound by the whole experience he began barricading the door shut and looking for something to defend himself with. Easily finding a meter stick as he entered a mathematics classroom he began sharpening it scared stiff the entire time. Finally he felt safe although he could hear running and screaming every second coming from outside the doors. Getting up he finally had the strength

It was mid november in the ozarks. A small mountain range located in the heart of the midwest. The trees are beautiful and the day is quite. One of the dead lies about 20 feet in front of me. I don't want to shoot him but he sees me. He starts to walk towards me. Although it doesn't look much like a walk. Its lifeless with no objective it justs walks, endlessly seeking nothing but what drives it to be alive. Human flesh, it's been 3 years now since the outbreak. Nobody knows how it started or where it came from. However it came hard and fast the first year was a nightmare, everyone i knew slowly died off. I've been on my own now for about 6 months. Using the wilderness and the rockiness of the ozarks to help keep me alive. The walker is slowly

Of all the murders and crimes the police have been able to figure out they still haven't figured out one. All the killings are from one man, every single death, all in the Mayberry Forest, was by a knife. Mayberry being the town that owned that part of the forest back in the 1950’s.

I am Feiga Kisielnicki. I wonder if I’ll be remembered. I hear the screams of people from whom I’ve learned.

Aaron Collins knew he had to go to sleep soon. He turned clockwise and leaned from his desk chair to check the time again. On the nightstand to the right of his desk, his alarm clock was glowing a faint neon blue and informed him it was 3:29. Suddenly, the last digit flickered and changed to zero. It was pitch dark in his spacious room except for the light flooding from his school computer. Aaron sat back in his chair and began typing again. He has been working on his essay about China’s extensive government and how it differs from our own for the past five hours. Thankfully, he remembered the actual due date explicitly states tomorrow instead of Tuesday. He pulled his face away from the screen and rubbed his chin. His eyes were like marbles