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A Soldier's Today and Tomorrow

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BRONAGH MURRAY A Soldier's Today and Tomorrow Hope is the name given to the energy that diffuses through our bodies, transforming our skin into metal plated armour. We can drag ourselves through the terrors of humanity because we have hope for tomorrow. Each day's foundations are built upon dreams of the future. Cordial tomorrows made up of memories, memories which have been sieved through the brain to remove any demerit that may hold the cause for a frown. The mind subconsciously adds in a few unrealistic ideals, and suddenly we have heaven waiting for us, all that is left, is to get through today. The rain beats heavily down around me, a clear shot straight into the puddle, water being scattered everywhere by the expected quick plop of the rain drop. Crazy missiles fell from the sky with the same speed and almost the same normality as the rain. Trying to keep in conduct with the rain, they also made a direct hit on the ground, and blood splattered in every direction. My eye took this image in just as a boy takes in the image of a milkman delivering milk. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The mud and dampness soaks through my clothes as I huddle in the bushes, my drenched hair is plastered across my forehead, and I have become indifferent to the constant drip of the droplets of water that dive from my nose. ...read more.


Eyes glowing with fear stare back at me, silently pleading with me for help. I know that my own eyes are portraying the same image to the other soldiers. Unshaven men in dirty clothes lie all around me. Fingernails caked with dirt clasped around their bestfriends, the only thing that can save them, their gun. Every surface is linked together with the same dark, unclean red colour, and fresh bullets of red drip from teared and burnt skin onto the untouched surfaces until every tint of colour is meshed together in the same shade of terror. Bodies lie still, and if it wasn't for their gruesome distorted features, they might look peaceful and at rest. My body is drained of energy, but the war is not, it goes on and on. In the distance I can see the continuation of the battle, men running, men falling and men dying. The oranges of fire light up my view and explosions ignite the sky, just like fireworks at a celebration. Where I am, it is only a dead man's celebration. At home huge rays of colour will shine in my eyes. The sunbeams will come through the window and I will have to raise my hand for shade. Lively colours jump out of the wall from the floral wallpaper, projecting an atmosphere of happiness and life all around. ...read more.


She bombarded me with questions; she was overcome with happiness. I felt no bond between us as there had once been, no understanding and no love. I knew there was a kind of love, but it was not the love as I had remembered it. It was something strange and abnormal. I was surrounded by meaningless joy; there was nothing to remind me of the tormenting days I had been through. I had been living in a nightmare with every other man, and my wife had been living in her own world of bliss. I grew bitter and resentful. Nothing here was familiar; I could not call my house my sanctuary. It was over taken by a new wave of feeling, one I didn't know how to react to. Also, it was taken over by a new human. A boy, my boy, my son, my flesh and blood, but I felt nothing for him. He was simply an ill mannered, spoiled little child. I felt like I had been rejected by my wife for this new form of life. He stuck by her side, and I could see a closeness between them that I doubted I could ever feel with anyone ever again. I didn't know how to belong anymore. I could have went back to war and died peacefully in a world I had come to understand, it became obvious that I belonged in the battle, and should have stayed with the fighting until death. ...read more.

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