I… I… just can’t do it. *pant* *pant*. All I can hear is the raging pulse of my blood and Sergeant screaming at me to get up, yet I cannot see a thing because I’m even too prostrated to open my eyelids. I am beat, and I can’t take it any more. I have been training for 4 hours straight, 4 hours! What I have been doing is pandamonium. I have to do 50 triangle push-ups and after that, go swim 25 yards without breathing in ice cold water. No breaks. As much as I want to protect America, I can’t stand training like this. There will be no point in swimming in the War. I just want to walk up to General Washington and protest to take our training down a notch, but I prefer to stay in one piece. I am already ripped and completely muscular, not to mention
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“Dude, how did you get so good at shooting?”
“I have been practicing for many years, Bobby,”I replied. He was decent at shooting, but he wasn't the best. He was shivering cold, and there was snow in his goggles. He looked miserable. But he is in Valley Forge, and he needs to suck it up,or he'll die. General Washington noticed his misery, and General yelled,
“What is your problem, soldier!? Ya can't mind a little wind chill? Let me warm you up sonny!” He isn’t very good with names. He comes back with about 8 bricks, “Drop for 100!” yells General. He drops, yes drops all of the bricks on top of him. I watched him, and I was looking into a mirror, like a window, that said,
“You are not alone. This is you yesterday.” I guess I wasn’t the only one. He is almost unconscious just like me yesterday while swimming. I help him up and brush the snow out of his hair.
“This is what I wanna see!” Washington is behind us. “Helpin’ up a soldier keeps us in the game! Well done, son!” I started to sprint and I somersaulted behind another wall to get a better view of the targets. The snow I was sitting in now is even colder! I started taking blind shots when I saw a little figure running at us. Then two, then hundreds! This is an …show more content…
You are not alone.” Shut up, you freakin’ mirror. I got up and ran off all of the guilt that I could back to the tree, and shot off more people putting anger into every bullet. One-by-one, my bullets were taking them down. General sees me and gives me a salute, probably for my incredible marksmanship. Or possibly getting over Bobby dying. Anyway, we had about twice as many soldiers now, and the British had no chance. They had no chance, but to…
“Retreat!” yelled General William Howe, the British leader, “Retreat!” he yells again. I see a big army of red run away. One of them spotted me as they were running away. “There you are!” he yells. He raises his gun and fires, hitting me right in the forearm. Yowch! Not only that, but the bullet was stuck in there. Poop. I started panting just like yesterday.
“Guys!” I plead, “Black Op down! Black Op down!” I get up slowly as they lie me in a cot running to the nursery. I see them get out a pair of tweezers. Oh no. They’re taking out the bullet. Here comes the pain. But before I know it, it’s out. I didn’t feel a thing. It’s suppose to be painful, but it wasn’t. Huh. They wrapped my arm in bandages. As I got up, I had a little pain, but I was fine. “So they ambushed us,” I said, “and we still won. That’s sad.” Some people
“Dude, how did you get so good at shooting?”
“I have been practicing for many years, Bobby,”I replied. He was decent at shooting, but he wasn't the best. He was shivering cold, and there was snow in his goggles. He looked miserable. But he is in Valley Forge, and he needs to suck it up,or he'll die. General Washington noticed his misery, and General yelled,
“What is your problem, soldier!? Ya can't mind a little wind chill? Let me warm you up sonny!” He isn’t very good with names. He comes back with about 8 bricks, “Drop for 100!” yells General. He drops, yes drops all of the bricks on top of him. I watched him, and I was looking into a mirror, like a window, that said,
“You are not alone. This is you yesterday.” I guess I wasn’t the only one. He is almost unconscious just like me yesterday while swimming. I help him up and brush the snow out of his hair.
“This is what I wanna see!” Washington is behind us. “Helpin’ up a soldier keeps us in the game! Well done, son!” I started to sprint and I somersaulted behind another wall to get a better view of the targets. The snow I was sitting in now is even colder! I started taking blind shots when I saw a little figure running at us. Then two, then hundreds! This is an …show more content…
You are not alone.” Shut up, you freakin’ mirror. I got up and ran off all of the guilt that I could back to the tree, and shot off more people putting anger into every bullet. One-by-one, my bullets were taking them down. General sees me and gives me a salute, probably for my incredible marksmanship. Or possibly getting over Bobby dying. Anyway, we had about twice as many soldiers now, and the British had no chance. They had no chance, but to…
“Retreat!” yelled General William Howe, the British leader, “Retreat!” he yells again. I see a big army of red run away. One of them spotted me as they were running away. “There you are!” he yells. He raises his gun and fires, hitting me right in the forearm. Yowch! Not only that, but the bullet was stuck in there. Poop. I started panting just like yesterday.
“Guys!” I plead, “Black Op down! Black Op down!” I get up slowly as they lie me in a cot running to the nursery. I see them get out a pair of tweezers. Oh no. They’re taking out the bullet. Here comes the pain. But before I know it, it’s out. I didn’t feel a thing. It’s suppose to be painful, but it wasn’t. Huh. They wrapped my arm in bandages. As I got up, I had a little pain, but I was fine. “So they ambushed us,” I said, “and we still won. That’s sad.” Some people