(Hi, this isnt part of the story but if you could please read it: This is the first piece I've written on YWS so I would really appreciate it if maybe you could comment or send me a message with any advice on how to improve my writing better, critics or to tell me I've written this in the wrong forum >.<, so here goes, I'm thirteen years old, btw I'm aware that it's not quite finished.)
I remember the stench of rotting dead bodies, the sound of the bloody mud, squelching beneath my heavy boots. My feet were numb from the cold, despite it only being the beginning of Autumn, I'd been wearing the same socks for weeks on end and I could feel the rough seams digging into my ankles, a constant irritation there in the background, like an unwanted itch.
I sprinted through the trenches trying to avoid taking note of the bodies decayed on each side of me. I had no idea what I was doing, I was told to shoot. Just pull the trigger, not to think, thinking was a mistake, one I made on my first day in fact when a German solider had shot straight at me- missing my helmet by half an inch.
I ground at a halt at a gap in the wall, skidding on the slippery mud below me. I raised my gun and looking through to cap. My eye lurched to a solider, his head was turned sideways, focusing on one of my comrades. I ducked and looked through the cap once more; it was the perfect shot.
I let out a long, deep breath and laid my hand on the trigger.
"Daddy!" I swear, right there and then that world stopped spinning. that was Norma's voice. My darling baby Norma, eighteen months old, her mothers blonde curls and my hazel eyes.
I knew at that moment that I could not pull that trigger. The gun in my hand stopped becoming a defence and became a life-ruining, sickening weapon. My fingers were frozen, I tore my eyes away from the cap, I wasn't going to shoot that man. His wife, his children, his family and his friends, waiting at home afraid and waiting; waiting for the person that they loved to come home. It was all over, every German I'd ever killed, their evil, my hatred for what they had done was all wiped away. By killing this man I was tearing apart everyone that loved him, how was it ever a childs fault what I'd heard the Germans had done?
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