I am in a closed cage, there is no light around me, other than a small hole that lets in natural sunlight. All I have with me is this journal, a pencil and the clothes on my back. It has been a full year since I have written in this journal. Ever since The Battle of Ypres, I have never taken a life away. Yesterday was the battle of Vimy Ridge. The British High Command ordered us to capture the position as part of a larger spring offensive in the Arras area. He said if Canadian troops attacked, success was bound to happen. In our training we learned new tactics intense training better prepared us for what we might experience out on the battlefield, and helped us learn how to make quick decisions our own but still follow the overall plan. We
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When I fell, my fellow comrades left me behind and proceeded with the mission. I barely get anything to eat or drink. The only belongings I have is a pen and this very journal. I think to myself on why they left me alive. A freak like me with half his face burned off. My legs are chained to the ground and the prison cell is dark and dusty with only one window which is impossible to reach. I have no idea where I am in the world. Everyday a masked man with a rough voice comes to torture me. Today he unchained my legs and started to beat with a long metal crowbar. He smacks me with it across my face. I lay on the ground struggling to breathe. “Wow that looks like it really hurt.” he says. He continues to beat me with the crowbar and I scream in pain each time. “Whoops now hang on, that looks like it hurt even more.” He says with a sad looks on his face. “So let’s try and clear this up one last time pumpkin. What hurts more A? Or B? Forehand or backhand?” He switches his hand moments and beats me even harder. I try and call him a monster. He gets on the ground and comes near me. He says “A little louder lamb chop, I think you might have a collapsed lung that always makes it harder for me to hear you.” I spit on his face with my bloody mouth. He kicks me and chains my legs back up. He takes out a knife and chops the thumb off my left hand. He uses so much force to cut through my bone as he saws through meat and flesh which leaves his …show more content…
But today this will be my last entry. For that today I will breathe in my last breath. The man how tortured me just came into the room telling me that the war is over. Which also means my days of torture are over too. He is letting me finish of any last thoughts in this journal. The masked man is no longer masked. He just took of his make. Revealing his true identity. It was him, it was the man I shoot at the Battle of Ypres. He lived I didn’t kill hi…………………
Bruce Todd, is dead. I put the guy through a lot, haven’t I reader? You all must be wondering on how I survived a bullet to the neck. But somethings are better left unheard. You may be wondering why I did this all. And you'll be surprised at the monsters this world can create. So remember to SIMLE, HAHAHAH.
-Bloody Smile
When I fell, my fellow comrades left me behind and proceeded with the mission. I barely get anything to eat or drink. The only belongings I have is a pen and this very journal. I think to myself on why they left me alive. A freak like me with half his face burned off. My legs are chained to the ground and the prison cell is dark and dusty with only one window which is impossible to reach. I have no idea where I am in the world. Everyday a masked man with a rough voice comes to torture me. Today he unchained my legs and started to beat with a long metal crowbar. He smacks me with it across my face. I lay on the ground struggling to breathe. “Wow that looks like it really hurt.” he says. He continues to beat me with the crowbar and I scream in pain each time. “Whoops now hang on, that looks like it hurt even more.” He says with a sad looks on his face. “So let’s try and clear this up one last time pumpkin. What hurts more A? Or B? Forehand or backhand?” He switches his hand moments and beats me even harder. I try and call him a monster. He gets on the ground and comes near me. He says “A little louder lamb chop, I think you might have a collapsed lung that always makes it harder for me to hear you.” I spit on his face with my bloody mouth. He kicks me and chains my legs back up. He takes out a knife and chops the thumb off my left hand. He uses so much force to cut through my bone as he saws through meat and flesh which leaves his …show more content…
But today this will be my last entry. For that today I will breathe in my last breath. The man how tortured me just came into the room telling me that the war is over. Which also means my days of torture are over too. He is letting me finish of any last thoughts in this journal. The masked man is no longer masked. He just took of his make. Revealing his true identity. It was him, it was the man I shoot at the Battle of Ypres. He lived I didn’t kill hi…………………
Bruce Todd, is dead. I put the guy through a lot, haven’t I reader? You all must be wondering on how I survived a bullet to the neck. But somethings are better left unheard. You may be wondering why I did this all. And you'll be surprised at the monsters this world can create. So remember to SIMLE, HAHAHAH.
-Bloody Smile