Creative Writing story
“Eight-hundred and fifty metres”, that was relaying from our spotter informing us of how far a group of infantry was from our postion, although experience favoured us we were outnumbered 5-1. As we devised a plan a loud whurling sound sandstorm appeared over the dunes as though summoned by divine intervention and engulfed the previously intimidating hostiles. “Allahu akbar”, the message over the radio did not only gain our attention due to the harsh tone in which it was delivered, 25 metres away a bomb exploded killing 4 of my men. Years of training engrained the importance of precision when in a life and death situation, as two hostile light armoured vehicles came into view from over the dune I cleared my magazine and loaded armour piercing rounds into my .50 calibre sniper rifle. At 1km I had the advantage over the vehicle fitted with machine guns, I kept my body in a calm state, controlled my breathing and fired, “HIT”, followed by another shot in quick succession “HIT”, the life of my squad depended on me taking away the life of another squad, I was successful.
Income was low, but the pride in fighting for your country outweighed the cons of the job. Upon returning home I felt out of place, going from the leader of a 9-man squad to an environment in which no one acknowledges you has a severe impact on your mind and your functions. The counselling was ineffective, I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, the offer of a second year of therapy didn’t interest me. I had to get away from the busy lifestyles people carried out and the loud sounds that occurred constantly, I had to live in an environment where I could live off the land and rid myself of the intrusive thoughts that often haunted me. The real help I needed could not come from others a fulfilling life to me was assosciated with nature not a life of normal interests that I disregarded long ago.
The sauna-like temperatures of the primitive wooden house forced me to exit, a small inconvenience to living off the grid the searing temperatures of the outdoors were suppressed by the gale force winds. I embarked on my daily trek to the moist, cool environments of the jungle where, I was met with a mountain that would intimidate any beginner climber, however, before I had even begun climbing my eyes scanned for shallow foot holds in the rock and within 10 minutes I was pulling myself over the peak of the minor hill. The sounds of nature filled my thoughts as I enjoyed the peace of isolation and the cool temperature of the high altitude. The high frequency of deer and rabbits provided me with a lasting food source and materials that allowed me to build upon my shelter regularly. The weather fluctuation impacted the available time I could spend in the arid location of my home, this week favoured me, the creek had plenty of water to spare and allowed me to indulge in my hobby of fishing. Alongside the river I gathered twigs and leaves to add to my previously assembled camp fire, one strike of flint and the orange flame harnessed the oxygen in the humid environment and acted as both a heat source and protection from the ever present mosquitoes lurking nearby. The darkening sky alerted me of the late time, I followed the markings on the trees I used to locate the traps, a gun was more efficient and allowed you to choose what animal you wanted to kill, however, the sound of gun fire triggers awful flashbacks that are capable of sending my body into shock therefore rendering my body immobile or causing hallucinations. With a sharpened stick, I impaled the skinned rabbits and roasted it over the camp fire, I chucked some root vegetables into the fire to ensure a balanced diet.
“BANG! BANG!”, I woke suddenly as the sounds of gunshots echoed throughout the jungle. I dampened the camp fire as it would only put me in danger if the people behind the gunshots werte menacing and because the sunrise offered enough light to navigated through the shrubbery. I grabbed the sharpened stick and traversed the creek. Around 1km later I could make out the silhouette of a person as I began to flank their position in order to get a closer look. There were hiking essentials scattered across the plateau, my attention switched to the young boy who was focused on the cliff face and had not yet noticed me. As I approached him he quickly stuttered out the details of the situation, I raced to the cliff face his dad fell from, I quickly descended the 6 metres and assessed the problem. I located my phone from my bag, the signal booster allowed me to call emergency services from the current isolated area. Using my abseil kit I winched the man to the peak of the mountain and found the only noticeable injury to his leg. The sound of the chopper did not affect me as it neared on our location. We entered the rescue vehicle and I reminisced of the days of the military as we soared through the sky at a low altitude, it felt like Iraq although, this time I was unburdened by the surroundings and I felt important once again.
Home
Help
Search
Login
Topic: English Creative Attempt (Read 1160 times)