Creative writing - Involving War

The wailing sirens struck fear into the struggling crowd of panicking civilians. The adrenaline rush filled me as I barged passed all the strangers and knocked an old man off his feet, he tripped into the puddle beneath him launching muddy water into the others surrounding. Nobody cared, I could not help unless I wanted the same to happen to me, but as I turned around an aircraft shot past, a thundering rumble followed and shook the ground.

As the old man searched for his walking stick in the marshy ground something caused an explosion; obliterating the helpless man and propelling rock and mud towards me at unbelievable speeds.

Everything went black as a heavy rock belted into my face, I lay unconscious between two mangled bodies.

I woke up to the same noise; aircraft shaking the earth, bombs breaking the earth and incessant screaming that sends a chilling sensation to your bones and then is silenced by an explosion. Only now the average volume was quieter, the loudest noise was two men shouting at each other.

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I kept my eyes closed to try and understand exactly what was going on and listened intently.

"Open the door what are you doing!?" yells an Arabian man,

The other person responded calmly, "We have enough people in here and we don't need anymore blood around the place."

"What you're just going to let them die!?"

"It looks like it doesn't it?" their quarrelling was silenced from a ground shuddering detonation. The screams outside were silenced for longer than normal and everybody stayed quiet listening for any life outside this mysterious room.

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I stopped pretending to be asleep and opened my eyes slowly. In front of me stood a beautiful woman, leaning against the wall in silence but not depressed, there were four people other than me in this room. I watched the women and she caught my eye before the others and walked towards me, her dark hair swayed gently and she knelt beside me looking at me with those shockingly blue eyes, her face was strangely untouched, no bruises or scratches from the bedlam and had no sign of discontent from these catastrophic events.

"Are you alright?" she asked but I ignored the question and said,

"What's your name?" she giggled and replied,

"I'm Sally, what's yours?" I didn't answer I just thought about what was happening, how could she be so happy at times like this? Who are these people? Where am I and what hell is going on?

My back clicked several times as I sat up next to Sally against the cold stone wall, I looked around and realised the obvious; I'm in a bomb shelter. I saw the two men still arguing about seven metres away and asked with a croaky voice,

"Why are they fighting?" Sally looked at them and explained,

"The tall blonde man is John", she gazed at him the same way I did to her. "He did something terrible..." Sally told me what happened; that John had closed the bomb shelter door on a crowd of people escaping the carnage and left them to die outside the shelter. I was shocked by what John had done but at that moment I didn't really care; the main problem was my difficulty in breathing and the throbbing pain in my face and chest. As Sally explained the details of the event I looked around the room.

There wasn't much to look at except the women sitting in the dark area of the room crying, her tears rested on her cheeks glistening in the dim light, Sally realised I was ignoring her and stopped talking.. The girl's weeping seemed to pollute the room, causing others to feel the same. I hadn't noticed the women in the corner before and felt as though I should do something, her name was Felicity; I heard someone mention her name. I always felt uncomfortable in front of crying women. I left her alone and stared hopelessly at the blank ceiling.

I never thought about how I got here, all I remember was the adrenaline rush, the running for my life and the old man receive a direct hit from a missile. Somebody must have carried me here, whoever it was saved my life and must have risked theirs.

My thoughts were interrupted by a feeling of warm liquid running up my throat, I coughed loudly and everyone turned towards me as I spurted thick blood out of my aching nose and mouth. I could feel everybody looking at me and kept spitting the oozing liquid into the ground beneath me. On my hands and knees I bent over the small pool of blood and saw my reflection. There were grazes all over my cheeks; blood was seeping out of the gaping wound beside my eye. My face was battered; my left eye was bulbous and stuck out of my head like a tennis ball.

I looked at my bruised lip as red saliva dripped out of a deep cut. It didn't feel so bad; it felt like I had been thumped in the face but looked like I'd been hit by a lorry. I shifted my hands back towards the stone wall and felt a cold liquid pour between my fingers, I was lying in a puddle of my own blood, I had only just realised how severe my injuries were. I was struggling to keep conscious and couldn't stand the shock and pain, cold ran down my body and I felt another liquid rush up my throat.

We spent hours in the putrid bomb shelter, luckily there were enough rations for at least ten people but medication was becoming scarce. Everybody knew that we would need the medicines for later and I felt like I was being greedy. I looked around the room, hoping someone would break the silence, I caught the eye of Felicity but she looked away, she seemed disgusted by my wounds and blood. I felt like a living dead body.

I could tell my wounds had healed slightly and I tried to stand up, people watched me with the corner of their eyes; obviously not trying to be rude. I pushed my hands against the walls, and felt the large scab on my armpit reopen and I let out a restrained cry. Everybody turned around feeling sorry and Sahid strolled towards me as I struggled to rise, his arm reached out in front of me offering aid. I accepted, lifted my wrist from the ground and grabbed his arm, the pressure moved to my legs as we both pulled in opposite directions, my knees stretched painfully as I rose to my feet. I looked towards Sahid with an uneasy grin on my face, he grinned back and I realised who it was that must have risked his life for mine during the bombings.

In the past seven hours I had thought and talked a lot, mainly to Sahid and Sally as John and Felicity were very quiet. My thoughts about Sally had changed, she was clearly fond of John and he seems very dangerous to be involved with.

We hadn't heard any explosions in hours and Felicity had finally stopped crying, my wounds seemed to have healed unbelievably fast and everybody appeared to be slightly happier, I felt as though it was time to get out of this room and return to the surface. I glanced at John as he rose to his feet; he was studying the giant, thick door and reached towards it. He rested his chubby wrist on the handle for a while; probably thinking about what he had done before. The handle let out a moan as he pushed it down, he tugged at the door and it opened with a loud sucking noise from the compressed air. Everybody faced him as the strong wind from the outdoors brought a giant gust into the shelter; my nose froze momentarily from the wintry rush of air.

It brought a foul smoky smell along with it, we all rose to our feet and stared at the narrow corridor, it was a relief to see an exit. John was the first to step out, he sauntered straight past the battered door, the fat metal hinges were almost completely ripped, the other side of the door was dented and black. Suddenly the door caused a thunderous groan, it toppled forward and John yelled as it came towards him. His shout was silenced and bones were crushed when the huge door landed on him; there was no chance of survival. I turned to face everyone, the walls started to cave in and floor rumbled, I fell on the ground and gazed towards the corridor, giant plates of rock fell from its ceiling burying the exit. Along with the exit our hope was buried too.

While I was lying on the cold ground the shaking finished and I analysed the room. We were completely entombed.

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Creative writing - Involving War. (2020, Jun 01). Retrieved from

Creative writing - Involving War
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