Young Writers Society

Screams rang in my ears. Blood and dirt was everywhere. Death was all around me. Time seemed to stop. The rush of adrenaline pumped through my system. I felt my bayonet embed itself in skin. As I pulled it out again, I heard a grunt and a thump on the ground. I stumbled forward as I gagged, and kicked the dead body beneath me. The pungent aroma of sweat, blood, and fire swam in the air. My eyes were blinded by tears and smoke. Why, why! Cannot I be spared this horror? Dirt swam before my eyes, like an enveloping mist. I braced myself, waiting. All around me I could hear my comrades fighting and dying. I spun around in circles, my bayonet poised and sharp.
Afraid, so afraid. I cannot die, too young, too young.
A tall, brown haired man, dressed in a dark gray suit and holding a rifle sprung out of the dust in front of me. I raised my bayonet and lay weight on my finger, hearing the crack of the bullet. The jolt from shooting the gun vibrated through my hands and torso as I heard the body of the man thud to the ground. Oh god! Oh god! Lila! Lila, I need you! I need you to hug me, to kiss me. I need to touch your swollen tummy, in which sits our precious child! I want you! I wanna come home! I never wanna fight again! Oh god! Oh god! Lowering my bayonet a foot, I could feel the weakness swirling in my head. My heart was beating fast, like a drum playing the beat to my untimely death. I kept walking, trying to see where more confederate soldiers were, so that I could stick my bayonet in them. They probably are as afraid as I am. Really, who am I to kill them, to steal their precious young lives away? I wiped away a strand of my blond hair from before my eyes. I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my back and arms.
At once, it seemed as if all the dirt melted away from around me. I could see everything in painstakingly, terrifying, cold realism. I watched as my friends and comrades shot their rifles and bayonets. I watched the men running at each other, and fighting one another, blood leaking across their tattered uniforms. I screamed as a fighter near me chopped off one of my friends arms. Blood squirted onto the ground and he fell, screaming in agony. I tried to close my eyes to rid myself of the haunting image, but I knew it was too unsafe. I felt a stabbing pain of realization hit me.
If I die, my wife will have a fatherless child. Lila would be left alone in the world. She would cry, her crystalline tears gliding down her cheeks to the pages of my last letter to her.
No.
I cannot die. Whatever the reason, I cannot die. If not for my sake, for theirs.
I swung my bayonet to my left and caught a confederate soldier on the scalp, making him fall to the ground dead. Then, I toppled onto the blood stained ground. Turning back, I thrust my rifle upwards and pulled the trigger, hearing the deafening crack once more. A cannon ball hit the ground near me and splayed dirt into my eyes as the man I had just shot slumped forward onto my chest. I met his horrified eyes. I gagged as blood fell from his mouth onto my neck. I shoved the body off of me as I stood, shaken.
All at once, a memory hit me. [i]We stood on a hill, overlooking the valley that we had built our house before. It was beautiful. The evening sun was setting, turning the sky a vibrant orange and red. I glanced at my wife, who I held in my arms, and saw her brown hair dance in the light breeze. She smiled at me, her green eyes sparkling like stars. A tear of joy slipped from her right eye as she spoke.
“I'm pregnant,” she whispered. My mouth fell open and I laughed, lifted her into the air and spinning. She was so beautiful, so innocent and young[/i].
Suddenly, A sickening rip hit my ears and I gasped heavily. I began to shake, confused. What had just happened? What...I...I spun in a circle, trying to figure out what the sound had been. Then, I froze where I stood. Pain had begun to ripple up my chest and into my head. I dropped my bayonet, and fell to my knees, the grief hitting me. My pale hand shook as I felt the gunshot wound in my stomach. I felt the sticky, warm blood on my fingers. Why?
Why!
Lila, I love you.
My unborn child, I love you.
I love you so, so much.

Hello!

This was so intense! I loved it! Very, very sad. You have a great way of building up the action and describing the carnage that war has caused. What I really like about this piece is that it's probably what goes through the minds of many soldiers then and now, before they're about to die. War is such a sad thing...but I won't get into all that controversial stuff

I think what might make this even more intense, would be if he were to have a memory of him and his wife together right before he died.

Good job with this, it flowed really well and you described things just the right amount.
Keep writing
-Once

Hiya,

So, I think you have a lot of good in this story. I really like the structure and style and what you want to do with the characters. When it comes to short stories, I definitely enjoy character-driven pieces. Your beginning is strong and I like how a lot of the narrator's thoughts come in a broken way. It definitely seems realistic for the setting that he's been placed in.

As I somewhat said in the first paragraph, what you've mastered is structure. It's the execution (showing us the characters and really letting the reader dive into the tense action) that needs a little bit of work. For starters, let's look at your characters, shall we? You have the narrator, and then his wife and their baby. It feels like the latter two aren't developed enough. Just because they are unseen characters doesn't mean that we shouldn't be able to really feel like we know him.

Think of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Willy Wonka is introduced late in the story, so it gives plenty of time of the other characters to talk about him, what he does and what his life for the past couple of years has been like. This makes us feel like we know him even before we're introduced. Even though we do seem him, let's say for a minute that we weren't. What would we know?

- He runs a chocolate factory
- He's very imaginative
- He has the heart of a child

The latter two are his most important traits, so that tells you a lot with what you can do. ^^

Have your narrator reminisce on memories and tell us about her. Maybe he can remember their joy when they found out the wife was expecting. We'll feel like we've stepped into the narrator's shoes and we'll feel his desire to come home and see his wife and baby. And that will be the key to unlocking the whole story.

Hope this helps, and PM me if you have questions.

-Elinor x

Thanks. I really worked hard on this. I added some more about the mans wife, I hope the story is better now.

Wonderful story! I love it! You're into the story from the first sentence till the last AMAZING!!!!

Hi I'm Shadowlight and I had the pleasure of reading your story!

Wow.......that about sums it up. this story was horrifying- But it a HOLY FREAKING COW THAT WAS SO SAD! kind of way.
Your Character was so in the moment! you read so many stories about battles and the characters don't seem connected to their surrounding but your character is from beginning to end.
there are only I few things I would have added if I were you-
I would have added more flashes of memory. he sees a friend get killed, have him remember something about that person.
Have more memories of his wife and their relationship, you made it obvious that they are deeply in love which just adds to the heartbreak.
I would after stating that their child is unborn have him refer to him/her as "my baby"
and also there are a few words/ phrases that he uses in the the story that are rather feminine. one that really stood out to me was when he was describing his wife's tears. Crystalline is a little to flowery (for me at least) for a man. try to think like a man in the 1800's, that was a very different mindset that of today's men.
these are all really small nitpicks, take only what you want.
On the whole I LOVED it, I almost cried when he died even though I had a feeling he was going to . so sad!
keep up the amazing work.
happy writing!

Wow this was so good. I love that you were very discriptive, and you paid attetion to detils

This sounds like my kinda book. I will post more later for critiquing purposes, hasta lavista peeps.

Hello! I loved the passion you put into this story, and this story sounds exactly like something that could've happened durring the war. I think it is very well writen and has is a great story, keep on writing!!!

Hey there, I don't really know how to say this.
Well let's just say I posted something a few hours ago in Historical Fiction. New idea, been swimming around in my head for awhile, I just never figured out how to get it onto paper.
Well about 5 minutes ago I went on to check on it and maybe write a few reviews. I stumbled across this story of yours......and let's just say there are more than a few similarities in our stories! By more than a few I mean it looks like I totally stole your story idea. I guess our minds go in similar directions
I apologize for that and I hope you believe me when I say that I never read your story before I posted my own.
That being said, I really like your story, you did a great job on it.
*daydreamer

A good depiction of a solider's last moments. I hate to watch war movies where sombody is shot and it dosen't seem to matter, the memory your solider gives is oh so classic but is wonderful and well written even still.