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Since the war between the nations, nothing has been the same. The calendar has been wiped out and restarted. When they took over I was 16, but that no longer matters.

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Introduction

Uprising - Creative Writing Task Nothing, absolutely nothing. This is what our World has become. A series of numbers categorise us into our towns, lives and personality, our identities are just a few letters and a brushstroke on paper and our names are worthless. The Ahtuc government (Peace Be Upon Them) refer to me as 11017, but I prefer 'Zelltre', the name given to me by my real parents, those who brought me up, those who were taken from me when I was a mere child. Before, I had never really thought about names and identities, a name is a name but now it has changed. Since the war between the nations, nothing has been the same. The calendar has been wiped out and restarted. When they took over I was 16, but that no longer matters. Only The One has identity, we are seen as inferior. A year seems to last an eternity now, yet I have barely aged. We have no choice but to work - and work we do, from dawn to dusk, in the sweltering heat of the sun. Even the days are longer now; it's like some sick game that we can't escape from. ...read more.

Middle

The next day, the gong sounded and we clambered out of our beds and into our work clothes. 132 was in Camp 5, I was in Camp 2. After the short walk to the camp, we were given shovels and ordered to dig a 6- foot-deep hole, 60 by 80 feet. Not long passed before I was feeling the strain of digging and others seemed to be feeling it too, but the guards did not seem to care, chatting with each other as if there was nobody else in the world. By the end of the day, my hands were blistered and I was developing calluses on the palms of each hand. My shirt was soaked with sweat and my hands were red with blood from the digging. By the end of the day, we had finished a tenth of the work. I knew that life from then on would not be easy; not that it ever had. Work continued like this for weeks. I continued getting stronger and stronger and after a while they moved me to Camp 5 with my friend. Work was certainly harder there. The guards were stricter; the lifting was heavier. But here at least I had someone. ...read more.

Conclusion

The tang of blood was all I could taste as 132 and I fought our way past lifeless bodies to the front ranks, firing round after round in the direction of the Manor. Shots were still coming our way; we dodged them as if we were walking on hot coals and returned fire, scoring crucial shots to the cold hearts of many Ahtuc guards. As we came closer, their accuracy improved, and one bullet embedded itself into my leg, but we pressed on, determined to battle to the death. How true that was. An AK-52 bullet was wildly fired in our general direction, and 132 was ripped away from me as he dived in its path, saving Din from death. The bullet penetrated his lungs and I could only watch as he gasped for oxygen, coughing up blood as he choked on the air, pupils dilating in fear. I rushed over to him, the world standing still as I held him dying in my arms. He had sacrificed his life for his betrayer. Guards were closing in on us, but I did not care, I had nothing left anyway. I rolled up 132's right sleeve, expecting to see his work number but instead saw something even more meaningful - a dove, with the words: "Pacis est eternus" or "Peace is eternal." ...read more.

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