Creative Writing Essay

Brooke stood unwrapside of his trench now, leaning against the outside w every last(predicate) and sess a cigarette. He inhaled and breathed out slowly, his eyes brimmed with tears as he stared up at the black sky, which every so a good deal lit up with white light from an explosion somewhere. He closed his eyes and he willed international the tears, just now rather than disappearing as he had hoped, they rolled down his dirty, pale cheeks and stung his rough lips. He watched indifferently as custody went posterior and forth carrying stretchers laden with moaning men with horrific injuries.Once they came by carrying a boyish boy who Brooke imagination could not have been any older than eighteen, he was covered in blood and had taken a serious blow to the precede as he was blown back by a shell set down nearby. He was still and unmoving as the stretcher-bearers hurried him back to the hospital barracks. Fin comp allowelyy, a sergeant named Truman tentatively approached hi m. Sir? Yes, what is it? , he replied wearily. Sir, Private Atkinson is hysterical sir, hes frightening the other men and Sergeant Williams cant control him.Williams says can you please come, Sir? Brooke sighed. A deep long sigh. Yes all right, tell him Im coming. When the two men entered the trench all the men in the first battalion looked up with hardihoods as fatal as storm clouds and expressions which could melt a heart of stone. Brooke nodded at them as he strode past but they had no effect on him anymore. He marched straight up to where Atkinson and Williams were and sat down beside Atkinson. The boy lay shaking and muttering, he was hugging himself and rocking back and forth with his eyes tightly shut.As Brooke sat down next to him his muttering became louder and louder until he was almost yelling it. Theres no focalise like home. Theres no place like home. Theres no place like home. Theres no place like home. He kept saying it over and over again. Tears streamed dow n his face and his movements became more and more rigid. Brooke looked at Williams and then around the trench. Twenty faces stared back at him, watching his every move. He shivered. Atkinson? Atkinson, do you hear me? Atkinson nodded and proceed muttering. Brooke noticed a large red mark across the young boys right cheek.Did you do this? he snapped at Williams. Williams shake his head. Brookes sharp grey eyes bore into him he nodded and looked away. Brooke glared at him then, slowly with all the gentleness of a mother caring for her child, reached out and lifted the shaking Atkinson up to lean against him. The boy buried his head in his commanding officers shoulder and grasped at his shirt, sobbing. Atkinson he said, then continuing in a kind but asshole voice. David, control yourself. David, we are all scared, but we must not let our emotions overcome us. Do you hear me? Yes Sir. Now, when you go home to your mother, you will disturb a nice young girl whom you love very dea r and you will go on to spend the rest of your life with her. However, to do that you must first get through this. Now, you will survive this, but you have to try. Will you do that for me? Will you do that for your mother? Yes, Sir. As the train pulled into the country station a man, around twenty-three days old stepped casually off and onto the platform. He breathed in late and looked around him everywhere he looked he saw smiling faces and content families.Dark memories of war clouded his mind he shook them away and started at a brisk walk towards the town. He sat in the cool church watching the young couple stood at the communion table beaming at each other. He listened to the vicar as he droned on, Do you David Atkinson take Anna Phillips? You see Thomas old chap? Life goes on.. Brooke theory to himself. Victoria Holland 11BM English Coursework Mrs Dukes Show trailer only The above preview is unformatted text This student written piece of work is one of numerous that ca n be found in our GCSE Miscellaneous section.