Tens: A Narrative Fiction

“Earlier today, we learned that an attempt was made on your cousin’s life,” her father said to her. “Your mother has so much grief for your cousin, because of the actions that he has made since the past two years – deeds worthy of being told to all

Then she began to speak of a world with no room to move, rats that attack you can, bodies piled up, and men without skin. The she starts to see Sethe's face through water and she doesn't want to lose her. She wants to rejoin Sethe.

“My father killed my mother,” he says eventually. It’s horribly casual, the way the words tumble out of his mouth, but he can’t think of any other way to say them.

“ I-I-I am so sorry, I also have family issues.” She said with a sad look on her face “My father was in charge of Auschwitz and he let my little brother Bruno die in a concentration camp…” she was cut off by the noise of dogs barking .

“When I got back home, I expected to be bullied by my family, like before. But it was quite the opposite. They were proud of me for surviving the war. I gave John’s letter to his mother; it was a horrible experience to say the least. The whole thing is just senseless, killing each other. I hope no one else ever has to experience the things I saw. To this day, I feel like my soul is still there on that battlefield, twisting around in the barbed

  Why did you leave me alone! Why'd you betray me! She'd scream out into nothingness. She fought against a restraint. What the hell is holding me back!? All she could see was thousands of trees. She screamed out. A blood curdling scream. Clarke was awaken to the sound of twigs crackling. She sat straight up not registering her tear stained cheeks or how her clothes were damp with sweat. The only thing she did notice was there was a small fire and her pot from out of her bag with water in

At that time, I felt like a rookie sky diver preparing for his first plunge. The cabin door opens to reveal the extreme distance of his fall, which leads to either sheer excitement or eventual death. The naivete that sheltered his fear disappears at the sudden reality of the moment. By then, of course, it is much too late to turn back. The very thought that this was his idea seems absurd to him, and he feels like the only person on the face of the planet. And so he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and

“You live here?” He sounds almost astonished, or maybe just doubtful. His voice is still flat and cold, although there was dozens of questions he probably had. This man clearly wasn’t a team player. On closer examination, I realize he is a man. When he was out, his face appeared much younger, innocent. That was the harsh reality of this world, this man had been through an immense amount of pain, I noticed it in his eyes.

It presents the readers the tragical reality of losing someone at any time during the war. “Ted Lavender, who was a scared, carried tranquilizers until he was shot in the head outside of the village of Than

Many of the men who returned from the war were suffering from serious injuries and the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and shell-shock. They were too tormented to communicate their experiences and involvements, and took them a long time to recover from the distress. Letters were received from soldiers back home, with families left wondering if this will be the last; ‘Dear Mrs Mack, I am writing to tell you of the death of your son Cpl F J Mack. He was brought in here quite early on Monday morning, wounded in the abdomen. Everything possible was done for him and during the day he seemed to maintain his strength, but towards evening he grew weaker/ died about 8.30pm.

The weight of Zaroff’s body in my weak arms, the beating of the heart that I thought could still be there but came about only to be a figment of my imagination. My hands under his expensive silk, fictional whispers leaving his mouth telling me that I did it. I sent him to hell. His whispers turned into screams, blood curdling screams. I put him in. Words unable to be decoded but felt in pain. They sounded inhuman, as if my own conscious was yelling at me. My head spiraling down into somewhere I didn’t want to be.

“wait, wait” he ran after me and slid in front of me blocking the door. He grabbed the door handle with one hand and slowly drew the other hand to the top of his head. He started to tug on his hair and seemed to be pulling off his head. No, it was a mask. And I immediately recognized

“The community broke into complete chaos. Everybody and everything was out of order. When the wave of painful memories hit, the people dropped to the floor and held their heads in excruciating pain. We should have thought this through more carefully Jonas. I would never have believed that such anarchy could become in such a peaceful community. But the memories were too harsh. Riots were started. Fires burnt down the buildings. Some jumped into the river and died just

The next day they were working and the green body twitched. they were astonished, It was amazing! But Victor got scared the thoughts were rushing through his mind again but yet agin he tried as hard as he could to push them away but this time they wouldn't they stayed and haunted him. This caused him to feel worse than he did befor. So bad in fact that he had to go for a walk he couldn't stay in the same room as that body he was scared. And each time ha looked at it or walked near it the thoughts just got louder and harder to forget he just couldn't. After his walk he felt as well as if a bus just ran him over but he did not let this stop him any longer and once he put the electricity to the body the monster sat

With the death of family members, the family situation on the home front changed drastically. Judy Woodbury, who was a young child during World War II, testifies that the death of her father had a