Monologue
Frozen in Thought
A sharp ringing sound, the whistling of bullets, that’s all I hear in these mountains. Mesmerized by their beauty, structure, and force. The tall trees with their imposing stance, and coniferous, rooty like shape, a true beauty unseen from home. Home. Why am I here, and not home? Instead I am across the world in this abyss of time, fighting, and fighting for what? Mom told me I wouldn’t die; I wouldn’t get hurt, it won’t happen to you she would say. Join the forces is what they all said. And now look at me; I’ve cut it close before, but not like this. It happened so fast, so decisively that I lost all control of myself. I’m on my knees frozen in time, paralyzed, and shook, not knowing how I got to this position. Two feet, two legs, hands, arms, I see them all. But why can’t I move, I just feel numb, my eyes fixed on the same stone for what seems like an eternity. The stone, centered in an equally proportioned circle of dirt, as if it had fallen from an extensive height, creating a tiny crater in the ground. A crater that reminded me so much of home, the times me and my brother used to set off cherry crackers in the grass, always leaving a tiny indent in the ground. Is this what war is? A reflection in times of darkness, a subsequent and vivid view of life. Blood and screams, drawn through the deadliest of weapons, the deadliest of people. It makes sense now, why so many avoid war, why those who fall are so honored. So long I went untouched, unchallenged, and now, in my first time of sorrow, I face a reflection. Paralyzed, hearing nothing but a loud ringing sound. Maybe I am dead, being judged, but there’s no light, they always said there would be one when you die. A gate way, the passage to heaven. Maybe that’s what the mountains are, the beautiful trees, my memories. We have to go now, is what I hear whispered to me, it’s my mother, in front of me, calmly shacking me. The stone has disappeared, and the trees beauty begins to...