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| The Gun; WOTM July | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Fri Jul 30, 2010 1:47 am (321 Views) | |
| scholar | Fri Jul 30, 2010 1:47 am Post #1 |
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The Gun Survival Monologue 1000-2000 words. The protagonist finds himself on the battlefield. Injured, and without any memories, can he survive the trials that await him? It was loud, bangs and concussions of air surrounded him. It was dark too. It was then that I realized my eyes were closed, they were so heavy I couldn't lift them. As a warm liquid flowed down my neck and face I needed to struggle to move my eye lids open. Gun shots. Lead was flying every where, artillery fire was sounding the... field? battlefield? I don't know. Whenever I try to think my head starts ringing and my ears start throbbing. I can't do anything except feel. If I thought my eye lids were heavy my arms must have been died down with weights. I could only move my right hand a few inches at a time. My left was caught on something, a strap? It's too heavy to be a strap. A zooming sound filled the air, growing louder and louder and then BANG! Everything went dark. some time passed, how much I didn't know when I heard muffled noises. I couldn't open my eyes anymore. They were sealed shut, impossible for me to open. I struggled to move, but nothing did. The muffled noises continued until they were gone. There was now nothing but darkness and silence. I saw a woman and a small baby, "Charles" she called out to me. Charles? I didn't know who it was. As I tried harder and harder to remember who Charles is the woman's voice grew fainter and fainter, her image shrank to just a glimmer of light. I called out to her, "Juliet!" I shouted, but who's Juliet? Was her name Juliet? More importantly what's my name? As I thought my eyes opened. Was it a dream? Probably. It's gone straight to hell, I don't have a damn clue what "it" is, but I can tell you, "it" has gone to hell. My eyes weren't as heavy as before. I could lift my arms a bit better now, they were heavy and I couldn't feel my fingers. I struggled to bring my hand towards my face, as it rose to my chest it came into the view of my eyes. They stung, and my vision was blurry, but when I looked down all I saw was a crimson blur. Christ! My whole hand is banged straight to hell. I would be luck if I have any fingers. My other hand was just as numb, but as I laid there in a total blur I slowly regained feeling in my fingers. Thank god, I still have fingers. I was touching something hard, smooth, and cold. A rock? No. There was a rough texture to it. My fingers explored it until I came across a smooth trigger. A gun. Why the hell do I have a gun? Was I a cop? No. That just wasn't right. A soldier? Somehow that felt better, but I couldn't be sure. Ex soldier? I was getting colder with each new thought I gave. A soldier is the most likely. I attempted to move. That was a horrible idea. I struggled with pain that consumed my body. My teeth clenched tightly shut, I'm not sure how I did it, but I moved both of my hands to my face and rolled on my side. After hours passed my body finally stopped hurting. It went numb again. The only thing still hurting was my stomach, it only hurt when I breathed. With only the sound of my breathe I eventually lost consciousness. I saw that woman again. I called out to her over and over. "Juliet!" I bellowed. All I saw was a tender smile and a sleeping baby. I felt oddly warm, full. I don't know why but I could tell I knew her. Something was wrong though, horribly wrong. A great dark red color was spreading from her stomach. It was blood... I screamed out to her and ran towards her. With each step I took I found that I wasn't getting any closer. I ran faster and faster. Her warm smile was still there and a terrible feeling crippled me with each step I took. She fell. The baby started crying. I collapsed. She was so close! I could reach out and touch her. The child's crying grew louder and louder, it consumed every thought I had and when I finally couldn't bear it anymore my eyes openned and I was gasping for air. Sweat poured off me. I could move more freely now. I tried to avoid all thoughts of that woman, but the wailing of the child were what haunts me with each movement I make towards sitting. I gasped for air and held my breath whenever I moved my body. It hurt just a little bit less. There was something hard behind me. It was a rock, after trying for what seemed like hours I finally leaned against the rock and opened my eyes for the first time. It was morning, a deep deep red filled the sky. It was disgusting when I finally noticed what it revealed. A barren wasteland of corpses and rotting flesh. There was nothing but death. The sounds of crows and flies were all around me. It was a great festival of death as the beastly creatures feasted on the dead. When I finally couldn't bear it anymore I took the gun still clenched in my hand and shot once in the air. The crows all squealed and made agitated calls as they took to the skies. They flooded the sky blocking out the sun. Just how many of them were there? My heart raced and my head throbbed. It was so painful I could barely bear it. The word suddenly appeared in my mind: Migraine. Knowing what it is doesn't help as I moved my hands to cover my face. The smell of blood was so intense that I was about to throw up. Sweat began to pour from my skin and when it did I noticed that there was dry caked on blood all over my body. Was it mine? Could a man loose this much blood and still survive? When it was noon I heard a truck. Immediately my eyes opened wide and I saw them. It wasn't one truck, but four trucks. Each one with a dozen or so people cleaning picking up the dead. I called out to them. I screamed with all my lungs but all I could do was wheeze and cough. As they left all my hopes drifted away. I remembered the gun immediately and shot three separate rounds into the field because I was too weak to point it up to the air. The trucks stopped and two of them came towards my direction. I couldn't think anymore. I was struggling to hold on to consciousness when three men came out of one of the trucks. They were looking around. The last thing I did before it got dark was fire a single shot. ----- The man was then picked up and brought to the nearest hospital. He was the only one to be found alive after three weeks after the decisive battle that ended the war. He was the only surviving member of the Third Kentucky Regiment, who made their valiant final stand stand against the invading army. The forces were outnumbered 32:1, but the battle had sapped all support from the populous and soon negotiations were brought on. The war ended just two days before he was found. He had survived the most gruesome battle of this century. By the time he was found he had lost over 1/10th of his blood and was severely dehydrated. He suffered three gun shot wounds and several broken ribs. He needed to adapt to his surroundings and to his own lost memories in order to fight back against the pain and suffering he suffered. He gradually regained his memories over the course of three years. He would later credit his survival to a gun that wasn't even his. He is widely considered a national hero and received multiple rewards for his actions. Note: The final paragraph is the epilogue that comes after the story giving the general information in the story. The story is a monologue and the ending is a narrative. |
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8:14 PM Jul 11