Young Writers Society

A shock never to be forgotten


Three weeks have past and not much has happened. The congress took place a week after the URS was elected.
My work actually became a bit interesting though.
I met this man who said he just wants to make a song so that he can prove to his family he can make money.
His name was Leroy. He was a moody person, almost the size of a fourteen year old. He had a deep voice, almost like a baritone. He always seemed tired. Not of his work, but of all the nightclubs he visits. Even through the tired swollen eyes of death, I can still see a sparkle in his eyes that makes you feel happy to see him. Dark blue eyes, like in the night.

‘Okay let’s try this again:
I won’t suffer
be broken
get tired
or wasted
Surrender to nothing
I’ll give up what I’ve…’

I needed to stop him. He was good with the low notes in the beginning, but when he came to the high notes, he sounded like a broken record on a toilet.
‘Dude. Did you practice your high notes like Mike told you to do?’
Leroy looked embarrassed and gave me that evil smile you did on school.
‘Maybe’ I knew he didn’t practice. He never ever practices for anything. It’s like a rule to him.
‘Leroy, you need to practice, or else we’re gonna sit here until the next war brakes out.’
Leroy looked at the painting to his right. He seemed very interested in that portrait of the woman crying.
Every lesson he looks at it. Even a small glimpse.
He kept on looking until I broke the silence and said ‘Well, are we going to sit here ‘till next Christmas?’
‘We’re having a party at the Cali’s club tomorrow night and I was wondering if you wanted to come.’

I looked flabbergasted.
‘ We’re trying to help you sing that is in my opinion, HORRIBLE!
And now you are asking me to this Cal’s club place!’
‘No you don’t understand. It’s just the high notes, but I’ve figured out what to do tomorrow.’
‘Do what?’ I asked, still looking amazed at this strange creature.
‘You see, I’m… well…I was suppose to sing tomorrow night at Cali’s club for my parents, but now the time.’
‘Sorry man, but there is no chance for you to get the high notes right by the time of tomorrow-‘
‘I know, but you can.’
I was a bit puzzled.
‘Do you want me to sing tomorrow night?’
Leroy laughed ‘No silly. I want you to stand behind the curtains and sing with me.’
I just gasped at his plan to impress his parents.
‘Are you mad or did a woodpecker land in your brain! There is no chance that I will hang my career for your stupid plan!’
‘Hey come now. It is a bit brilliant don’t you think?’
I couldn’t believe what I’m hearing.
‘Even if it does work, wouldn’t there be a technical failure or something?’
‘All taken care of.’ He said that with a lot of triumph. He was proud of what he has achieved.
This was a tough decision and I did feel sorry for him.
My parents also didn’t believe I could get a job!
‘All right.’ I knew I was going to regret this.
‘Cool! Lets play the soundtrack again to make sure all right?’
I sighed ‘Okay just one more time and we’re out!’
Leroy pressed play and sat on the nearest chair he could reach.
I stood up and leaned against the wall next to the Hi Fi 3.600(It is just the newest Hi Fi radio with “the latest technology” but they all sound the same to me.)

We were half way in the song before a ‘breaking news’ bulletin report came up.

…It’s unbelievable. It just happened out of nowhere! The thirteen countries have…un…united in s…s..s…someway. They just bombarded the Northern countries of Africa nearest to them. There is just dead people on the streets of the cities that were attacked. Even the f…f…farms were bombed. That’s not all.

I knew it was going to get worse. The journalist was scared and crying. He sounded destroyed. Like the death of people was changing him.
Leroy looked emotionless.

Not very long ago we had a conversation about the thirteen countries. He told me that he actually was a volunteer for the UN children support program. He was supposed to go to one of the countries and help the sick and wounded children.
He saw what was waiting for him and thought the pictures were the worst.
He told me he is regretting the decision to join the UN child support.
When he got there, he was stunned: There were dead or dying people on the streets.
He told me it was unbearable, that he couldn’t understand the people that were so far lucky could just walk on the streets like nothing, like if the shattered and ruined shopping mall with dead was still standing there with people walking out with wonderful lifestyles. Nothing was wrong.
But this was what the people mourned for the most. All those days of peace and serenity is over.
Only reality is what keeping these people alive, or well for a day or two. There were rivers of blood on the streets, pieces of what used to be a man or woman or even a child, running for their life, on the streets.
Leroy couldn’t stay there. He had to leave.
He did and with him he took an unbreakable horror that will haunt him for the rest of his life.
It wasn’t the streets that changed his mind, but what he saw at the hospital where they were taking care of the children.
Boys with no legs and still bleeding because the hospital didn’t have the proper medical tools, were lying on the beds with someone to make there last days on earth a bit more peaceful and happy so that they know they didn’t die alone in this world.
Girls with missing arms and legs. One girl lost her entire lower half and is still alive.

Dead bodies everywhere, lying on the floor and on the beds.
It was, as Leroy described it, hell.
It made so sick, he ran out of the building and immediately booked a ticked back to California.
A horror remains in him.

I looked at him. A tear slowly walked its way towards his chin.

In Italy, URS forces are moving towards the Western parts of Europe. Still no numbers of casu…casualties reported.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. URS, attacking the other countries. Wha... Pollymore. Why? I couldn’t understand. No!
‘The rehabilitation didn’t work.’
‘I need to get home. Sorry Adam, but it looks like well have to do the show another time.’
Leroy stormed out of the room leaving me and the radio.

That’s not all. URS forces have taken over the entire South American continent and are moving towards Mexico, into the United States of Ameri… America.
It is reported that anyone above the age of twenty, must report to the Military academy nearest to you immediately tomorrow.

‘Shit!’ I cant believe this. Why did the URS even choose that sun of a bitch in the first place.
I picked my bags up and locked my room.

We are going to war again.

‘Mom! The TV! Turn it-‘
‘I know.’
Mother’s voice was deep, lifeless. Nothing seemed friendly in her.
She was extremely pail.
Mellissa was busy sobbing next to Nathan on his shoulder.
I moved towards the TV, sitting in my chair in the middle.

‘This is what is left of London.’

I just saw fire.
Smoke rising in the air. Nothing left but a ruin of what used to be a beautiful and strong city. Fire brigades standing around trying to kill the fire that has destroyed this city, but they just don’t want to die.

So far four hundred and fifty-five is reported dead…

i do have to say that its a good start but you need to space it out between each new person speaking. also i would reccomend the replacement of what many would call weak words. rereading your own work aloud can oftentimes help against bad grammar and spelling.