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It was dark. We were in the midst of a heavy downpour. I lay motionless on the cold, hard cement floor of my prison cell. It had been twenty-four hours since I had been taken in

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Introduction

Gone with the Shackles... It was dark. We were in the midst of a heavy downpour. I lay motionless on the cold, hard cement floor of my prison cell. It had been twenty-four hours since I had been taken in... Looking back, it had seemed likely we were going to win the war. It was filled with murderous, bloody and depressing events. But yesterday there had been something in the air. It was not the smell of deceased flesh. It felt like optimism. The invading army was slowly but surly being defeated. At about 1500 hours the front line had gained about eight miles and out adversary had seized fire. Was this just a ploy? Or were they giving up? We did not know for sure. We kept our hopes high though. I decided to take a rest from the chaos that surrounded me. Sleep was a luxury we didn't take for granted anymore. I slept lightly, waking at the slightest sound. ...read more.

Middle

His deep voice would intimidate anyone. I explained to him what had happened. He ruthlessly dismissed my explanation and shouted that I would be held in an encampment until they though of a just punishment for a coward like me. Days became weeks; weeks became months. Many men and even some women had come in and out of the prison. Still I had not heard my punishment. They kept me in a small, cramped, dingy, box-shaped room; with nothing but a bed and toilet and sink. Hunger would kill me before they did. I was given three pitiful meals a day, which resembled rice chicken and water. It was the same every day, breakfast, lunch and dinner. The conditions in which I slept in were ghastly. The stench was a grim mixture of urine, feces and decomposed flesh. My bed was just a thin damp mattress on the concrete floor. It seemed like the mattress had been used a million times over and not all that slept on it had not survived the night. ...read more.

Conclusion

The plane journey from Berlin to Washington D.C. was very long, strenuous and uncomfortable. They told us that President Roosevelt was going decide our fate once we landed... After what felt like an eternity we finally landed. The sun in Washington was bearing down on us. We were all shackled together like cattle lined up for slaughter. In the distance we noticed a black limousine driving toward us escorted by police. It was President Roosevelt. He nonchalantly stepped out of his limousine and walked toward us. He scrutinized each and every one of us paralyzing us with fear. I had never been put under such a microscope. His haunting look would never leave me. He whispered something to a tall, well-built gentlemen's by his side. The next thing I knew my fellow comrades were gunned down in front of my eyes... one by one...bodies hit the ground. It would soon be my turn. After almost one year I would be put out of my misery. I was next; I closed my eyes tight in silent acceptance. The gunshots seized... ?? ?? ?? ?? English Creative Writing Coursework - First Draft Amar Mehta 1 ...read more.

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