the weekly newsletter from EHS
Year 7 Creative Writing
24 February 2021
As we approach spring my Year 7 continue to enjoy their creative writing. This week we have pieces from 2 students who have contributed before. Anya’s ‘The Soldier’ has clearly been inspired by her history lessons. Harleen’s dramatic piece is crying out for Netflix!
- Samantha Park
The Young Soldier By Anya De
Walking out of the cottage, I said my goodbyes to my mother and hoped to see my family again. “You will come back, won’t you!” shouted mother.
“Yes, I will. I will be back by Christmas!” I yelled back trying not to show my emotions. Jumping onto the war truck like a jack in a box, I hoped I would find a great comrade on my side. Perching on the seat with my face as still as stone, I was taken to the horrifying war fields. Unfortunately, I was in the frontline army and my hopes of surviving were zero.
Thankfully I was not the only new soldier which had been recruited. I met a young man similar age and size to me who became my commerade (Tom). Tom was amazing at making me laugh.
Trudging towards my quarters, I thought of how I should present myself to make a good impression. Once I reached the place, I saluted and was given a voluminous amount of ammunition such as: guns with bullets; gruelling grenades; roaring rifles and banging bombs. Immediately, I was then ordered out. It took me a couple of days for me to get used to these harsh conditions in the trenches. They were murky, dirty and rats ran next to our feet. Everywhere I looked were injured soldiers who were trying their best. Here and there were shards of glass like a thousand stars in the night sky.
After a week, I was order to a bring a friend and go to the General’s quarters so I went with Tom. As quick as a whip, we walked over to the General’s quarter hoping that everything was all right. It was not ok at all. The General demanded, “You young man and your friend have to do something which many save thousand soldiers but that is if you complete this. You have to stop an army from fighting.” I was flabbergasted from what he had said. Instantly, he gave some more ammunition if needed. After that, he showed that we had today until dusk to stop this fleet from charging tomorrow. We thanked our General and we set off seeking the army.
Clambering out of the trenches, I prayed for luck as there was no-one stopping us from dying. Within seconds, shooting had begun after the rivals saw us climb out.
I was shooting as quick as lightening. Bullets were piercing through the oppositions skin. People were screaming and cried with agony. The wind was moaning like a baby.
It had been about 3 hours of hard work trying to get past the opposition. We had got far down the battle field. It was getting dismally dark and suddenly I caught a glimpse of the army. I whispered to Tom, “I think that army over there is the fleet our General was talking about.”
“Yes, it is!” stated Tom with a grin which was from ear to ear. Rapidly, we ran to the General of that army to stop that mission from commencing tomorrow. Gratefully the General agreed after a lot of explaining of the circumstances that would end up if they went ahead. A rush of adrenaline surged through me. I shook Tom’s hand with a smile as broad as my face. We had completed that task. In the distance, I heard screams of joy and euphoria. All of a sudden, the air raid siren went off to indicate the war was over. I knew then I was going back home.
Sat in the isolated prison cell, cold and alone I wondered where it all went wrong. It was all just a blur, one moment I was calmly exiting the jewelers and the next, I was being pulled into a police car. How could she do this to me, after how humble and amiable I had been? It wasn't right for me to be the one behind bars, but would the jury agree, would they realize that I was just a young girl of sixteen years old who had been misled by a spiteful, malicious traitor?
I almost jumped out of my own skin when the police guard banged on the cell bars with his metal pole. He was a muscular, largely built and honestly quite terrifying man with an extremely severe looking face. The vein on his wide forehead was popping as I nervously stared at him, wondering what he was going to do with me. A deep, hoarse voice boomed, "I, Detective Hawkes, will be interviewing you today so that I can find out your side of the story. Now come with me!" My legs wobbling, I managed to stand up whilst his plump hands wrapped the handcuffs around my lean, shaking wrists. Hands behind my back, I followed the detective, wondering whether my interview would be like the ones in films where good cop, bad cop is played or whether it would be completely different, in a way you and I could not imagine.
I found myself in a dark room with only one wooden table and two chairs, one at either end. Since the only detective was Detective Hawkes, I ruled out the option of good cop, bad cop. As soon as I was seated a bright light was shined in my face, making me sweat even more. Files were yanked out of the brown satchel that he carried around his side, as well as a small black notepad and a black pen. He barked, "You have been arrested on suspicion of robbery, the police caught you with a pure gold necklace yesterday at precisely 4:17pm. Anything you say or do in this interview can be used against you in court and you have the right to remain silent. Do you understand?"
I nodded and there was a shiver down my spine at the thought of going to court even though I was aware that it would happen eventually. I wondered what my parents thought of me, would they believe me? I doubted it, the whole world seemed to be turning against me. I simply couldn’t put my finger on why somebody I had known for my whole life would suddenly , frame me! As Detective Hawkes thumped his knuckles against the wooden table I was brought back to reality!