Creative Writing: All Quiet On The Western Front

Can you imagine, living in a trench that is five feet deep, and you constantly have to duck from enemy fire. Diseases all around you .In bone chilling temperatures, not being able to light fire to keep warm or you'll give up your position, sleeping in a hole for a bed at night, dead and wounded soldiers all around you. Well for the English and German soldiers that was their reality.

Jimin wakes up to the sound of explosions and fire. A thousand and some men meet their demise each day, and Jimin prays at night he’s not one of them. The war rages around him, and he gets off the make-shift bed to get changed into his gear to help out. He caps the patterned helmet and looks at himself in the mirror. His reflection stares back, sad and weary, a youth gone wrong. He smears camouflage onto his face, high on his cheekbones until there is nothing left of him but an empty vessel of war.

Then he cursed as though he learned it from a manual for sergeants, and his curses merged with the metal slapping air sound of a prop turbine. Dad heard the Bunge’s voice sputter. It sounded as if he stored his anger deep inside him. In order for him to access it, he had to pump it out, using every muscle in his stomach, back, and neck. Sarge cursed, rocking with the effort until his voice became a high-pitched hum.

We marched. We marched shoulder to shoulder towards the battlefields. Towards our death. Hundreds of the British Army marched as one to fight for their country. Determination was the only emotion I could read on their faces; ready to battle.

It has been a long time at war, I have thought of you day in and out you are the only thing keeping me going. Many of my men have died, several are wounded and I am losing hope. We are short on supplies such as food and clothing, we are in need of food and supplies if not soon we shall suffer. Our tents are so small, only a man can fit within each of them. We are in the worst of troubles, hopefully our luck changes for the better.

“He is the goblin general who has done a fine job uniting the goblin nation into a cohesive entity with direction and purpose.”

It was an icy foggy morning on the planet Isthar, in the old church me and my spotter Leo set up in the day before. The warm comforts of the summer and spring were singing their last woeful good by chorus as the first snow fell to the ground ushering in a time of fall and winter. It was quite the pictorial scene for a firefight.

I have someone bringing me my stuff. You don't think that I would leave you alone to go nearly halfway across the castle to get ready do you?" He asked. Rennes sighed at the mention of the silk dress. "You know good and well Seraphine I do not 'play' with any of the servants. She tripped, started to fall and I reflexively caught her." He explained for what felt like the millionth time. He knew she was teasing him though, it was one of her little tricks that he allowed her to get away with. That or playing the total innocent and try and choke him to death with flattery. What he failed to say was that there was only one person he wanted to play with. It was one of the very, very few things he kept from her.

Ouch! I woke up to a stinging pain in my left arm. The bandages I had on it seemed to be loose and were starting to come off. I guess I better get up and change them again... What a great way to start off the day already. I glanced over at my alarm clock, noticing that there was plenty of time until I had to go to work at the clinic. Once I get off my bed, I headed over to the bathroom to take a quick shower. After that, I changed into my usual clothes, and started wrapping bandages around my left arm. I looked into my mirror as I put on two bandages on each side of my face. For whatever reason, I usually found random injuries on any place of my body. Bruises, cuts, scars anything you can name. It's pretty annoying most of the time, but I guess I've grown used to it.

James too had begun to feel tiny, reoccurring stabbing sensations in the tips of his left fingers and one on his right; those that he'd penetrated into the black eyes of the demented soldier. The nails were literally falling off of him, like a snake shedding skin; or rather he worried it would reach that precise extent. As he'd feared, the infection had begun to spread, but at any small mercy it was a gradual process. There was still time. Still hope. A crooked, green line ran the full length of his middle finger, but the damage could be repaired. His father's skin was becoming more tainted, violated by the chemicals that he'd created. All of this left his mind as they turned

It was a bright and sunny morning on September 1st of the year 2020. I felt the heat from that blazing ball of fire 92.96 million miles away. While it was mid afternoon I still did not want to wake up. But as the sun continued to fire off burst of light and heat, my bed began to feel more like a oven. As with any morning I put on the closets clothes to me. Before leaving my room I looked, well fumbled around for my glasses until I could find those thick nerdy things.Then my searching for my phone which was under tens of thousands of clean and dirty clothes mixed together. After wasting 30 minutes digging for my phone I felt the sharp corner of rubber and metal. Without hesitation I grabbed it out as clothes fell to take its place. When my morning

P.s. Let’s be honest, if you survive I will still kill you...but the thought of your burning flesh in a freak gas leak it too much to refuse.”

She heard the chip of the ice for a split second but was looking at the ice at eye level before hearing her hip slam against the ice replaying in her head. That split second later the pain registered in her mind and she knew she he fallen once again. It still managed to internally shake her. She felt a sense of weakness; almost as if the ice were the one skating on her. "Again," she thought.

I awoke in the dead of night coved in a cold sweat. Haunted by my dreams i laid there trying to catch my breath as the heavy rain beat down on the roof. I replayed the dream over and over and over again in my head so not to forget it. So much death and bloodshed; the screams people being slaugthed by the dozens. Familys torn apart and citys burned and all for what? To stop the few of us that learned to survive years of wars. The rain drops grew louder with each breath. The room felt small and cluttered. I must smell hung heavily in the air as if it was poisonus gas trying to suffercate

The sound of shattered glass rang out trough the hallways and within seconds the place of mobbed with zombies, clawing at the air of discover the source of the sound.