The Veteran

Reads: 627  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
Is the battle you're fighting just a nightmare?

Submitted: November 14, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 14, 2013



I found myself gripping tightly onto a M1 Thompson, struggling to hold on to it as bullets were wizzing past me, shredding through anyone who stood in their way. Not giving their opponent a fighting chance. My feet were moulding into the sand, saving my foot print into it aswell as lives. Explosions and screams were engulfing my trembling ears, my heart pounding like a drum and bursts of fear spreading throughout my body, embedding it's self into my quaking bones. I glanced quickly to my left and witnessed the most horrific site a young man could ever witness. Something that will always stick and glue it's self in my memory. A young boy, around sixteen, definitely not old enough to be here fighting this monstrous war. Blood was streaming from the left side of his head, his legs pouring with the red ink, slowly sinking into the grains of the beach. Tears were trickling down his bulging eyes, veins bulging out of his neck as he screamed out in pain and said something. I couldn't make out all of what he was since it was being muffled by the sound of the abominable guns, piercing people, emptying their souls from their body. I could, though, make out a few words like "moma" and "home". A rush of adrenaline shot around my body as I tried to run over too save him. But suddenly something was squeezing my left leg as tight as guitar string. I started down below me seeing a man with a stubble and dark, greasy hair, gazing into my eyes. Blood skewing from his mouth, staining his chalk white teeth. He tried to say something, but nothing climbed out of his mouth. A sharp golden murderer penetrated the back of his skull, staining my camo-color trousers with his mashed, pinky insides. It suddenly came to me. All his memories, family, existence gone. Never coming back. A small amount of sick traveled up my throat but never managed to escape my mouth. My brain froze. I couldn't handle this. Why am I even here? Those thoughts quickly erased from my mind and focused onto a man standing next to me. He whipped something out of his pocket. A grenade. He took no hesitation as he bit the pin out of it and was about to throw it. In a flash the innards of his stomach were on the floor and me. Suddenly an immense amount of shock took over my body as it came to my senses he never threw the grenade. My whole body leaped forward trying to get away from what was about to happen next. I heard an explosion.  My eyes flashed open. Sweat pouring down my face, heart racing. No feeling in my legs. A knitted quilt over me. I peered to my left and there was my wife. I glimpsed to my right and there were crutches placed against a wall. I gulped and checked under the covers. Two stumps were there, where my legs used to be........ A small tear, worth a thousand feelings, strolled down my cheek. I tightly shut my eyes and rested my head on the pillow and awaited for the horrific memories which will soon come back to haunt me once again......

By Lucas Omar.

Thank you for reading this short story I made. I did not copy or take this story from anyone, it's one hundred percent original. I'm 13 and this is the first story I have posted on here, I hope to post more. Thanks.

© Copyright 2019 Manx. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:




More War and Military Short Stories