Creative Writing: Bloodied Snow Of The Fallen
Bloodied Snow of the Fallen
October 10th, 1943 , near the forest off of a Nazi controlled town of Warsaw...it should have been easy...
Life, such a fickle thing to live with, sometimes it goes well and others...this time, it went terribly wrong. The cold October night was a beautiful sight to see, stars peppered the sky as the moon’s light bathed the forest. I felt a cold shiver go through my body as I slumped against a tree, holding my abdomen in pain, wondering if this was it, if my life was finally over...sadly...I almost wished it was. That was the last thing I remembered of that night before waking up in a partisan camp, in a cot inside a tent. The first face to greet me was him, Ben, he’d soon become one of my most trusted friends.
Ben was a nice man, he was always light hearted no matter what, and confident above all, though the only annoying thing was...he could never spell or say my name correctly,
“Ok Ben, repeat after me...it’s M-I-G-U-E-L, ok?” I muttered frustratedly through my teeth,
“Alright uhm...M-I-G-E-U-A-L?” Ben nervously tried to replicate the sounds I had made, but it clearly didn’t show.
“Ok ya know what? Just call me whatever you want alright?” I stressed as we walked through the wintery forest,
“Ok then, well, how about Michael? Like the Angel?” He said this as if I were to be impressed, I wasn’t but, I still liked the name.
“Sure, just stay out of trouble long enough to actually say it,” I jokingly…