CONFLICT STORY ….

Helloooo….

So I haven’t posted because of the ENORMOUS piles of school work 😦 But I’m back (at least for now!) and I thought I’d share a story I wrote for a competition which I didn’t think would go far, but I love writing and entered! I was ECSTATIC to find it’s in a shortlist of eight stories to pick three final winners to be published! Wish me luck:) x



THERE ON THE BATTLEFIELD

There on the battlefield, he paced ahead, head raised high, with the only light occurring from the rigid sunlight, illuminating down on this needless game. Every movement indicated terror, muted from when the next death shall occur. That swift, yet slick gunshot, widely recognisable to all these daring, giving souls pounded once more. Over and over. Again and again. A life clasped like another would reappear and all would be forgiven. He ponders, his raspy, harsh breath passing on witness of the newly addition to the death parade. ‘That was someone’s child, parent, or friend. It could’ve been my child, parent, or my friend. My anything’. He exits, shuddering, resigning alongside the other troops to prepare for a blast of a riot on the arena. The thought of executing someone through your own will, triggered by mere brainwashing woke his mind. ‘Why am I here?’ his conscience bawled. The view of these baffled warriors led him to realise that they didn’t know themselves, yet continued to follow their Superior. The one who told them it was ok. Justifiable. Led them to follow like stranded sheep, whom needed to find their inner self. The blood thirsty trial was an excuse for them to participate in this conflict. His conscience grew wilder. Stronger. ‘I’m just a sheep, aren’t I? Following the shepherd’s orders. To benefit the farmer. In the end I am deprived of who I am. Who I can be. Who I should be. Not isolated from my mind and identity or my loved ones’. The sky grew rosy and warm. Such a beautiful vision, yet to be shattered by this wrecking disruption. In the midst, all is lost. He must. You must. Tear apart. Vanish from society. His precious premier moment on the front line? ‘Forget it’, he mutters. He didn’t realise his first was set to be tragic. He was standing right in the opposition’s zone. And was surely cornered.

Gunshots rocketed from the opposition to his needy defence. ‘I’m going to die’. His life shot past him in precise minutes, quickly forming the destiny he set. The world seemed to tensify and a sharp tear trickled down. A representation of this unworthy battle. In fear of his life, he commenced releasing the golden rifle, securely attached to his military suit.

By instinct, he slammed it down.

‘This isn’t me. Never was. Kill me all you want. You shall never retrieve my inner soul. This changes you, but me? I deny change. I will die now. Perhaps not the most peaceful death, but I didn’t do it. You did.’ And with this proficient thought, a gunshot fired through his head.


 

It may be slightly confusing so if you have any questions be sure to let me know! 

Bushra xxx

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