Distant Future

Ok, please realise this is a creative piece of writing I did for school coursework, it's a dual narrative. I must warn you there are tiny oh so slight bits of vulgar language, please just realise it's used to create effect.

Also, it's based around an Old Man, a veteran from the First World War,a British Veteran who now resides in a Nursing Home as his life is withering away, and it follows a Young Man; you'll pick it up.

I’m awake, in the bleak surroundings of my ‘home’, sitting here. They make fell a burden to society, unable to move and barely speak, but why should I feel it? I have done my part for this country. I gaze over towards the upper corner, there, a cobweb is growing everyday. Insects flying towards it, not knowing that this will be the penultimate thing they do, and as they are trapped in the glistening shackles they will squirm and struggle for freedom, some will escape, not many though, they will be consumed by this evil…
The loud booming voice of the captain signalled that it was happening. I nervously stood there, shaking. Like I was having a fit of sorts, my friends some of them throwing up, I remember one or two wetting themselves. I unwillingly walked towards the ladder, and as the shriek of the whistle echoed through the fields of No Mans land, I went over.
We ran across together, the adrenalin rushing through everybody’s veins, but one by one they began to bow down to the fire of the machine gun, it’s bullets were like rain. I eventually falter onto the ground, my leg spurting out blood like a broken water pipe.
I can still feel the sharp burning pain of that bullet, like an angry wasp.
As I lay there, I heard a very frail voice calling out to me. I thought he was dead, he stared into my eyes, I was faced with being the comfort for somebody as they lay there dying, I hadn’t even met him before, we looked at each other and I held him close to me as he died, his last whisper of life ‘Mother’, he looked up to me and smiled.
I closed his eyes and put his helmet over his face. I gave up all hope and lay flat beside him.

I extend my arm and our hands connect, we are walking down Darling Road, walking past the chip shop on the way, we are going to a nightclub tonight, a new one opening, ‘Perfect Retro’ I think it’s called.
As we are on our way there, we have to go past the Nursing Home, everyday I see that place. It always has frightened me; it smells rank off eggs and old people. I looked up towards the window and there he was, sitting there gazing at my girlfriend! The cheeky old git! Scar on his face and his eyes looking straight at me. I edge my girlfriend to move quicker, to get away from him and the home. God, old people piss me off sometimes.

I don’t know he looks at me so surly. That young boy walking past everyday, a glint in his eye and a spring in his step, but he still doesn’t seem very friendly towards me, I glance at him and smile, he takes it the wrong way? Why such a hostile nature in this day and age, why?
They ran over to me with a stretcher. The rapid fire of the Machine Gun suddenly came to a halt, and the heavy bombardment from the British side, the German trenches were covered in a blanket of mud and smoke, they ran me home and when we came to the trench; I burst into tears and everybody came to comfort me.
I remember being roughly lifted onto that rotting wooden table, damn the ticks I got from that thing. The excruciating pain of that bullet through my leg; the Doctor took it out slowly and painfully, I ended up being warned for my abusive behaviour to him, I made up some vicious words that day.

We had danced all night; it was such a nice place to be; we met some very cool people, they started talking about some very weird things, some of them were pretty drunk, I stayed slightly sober though, wish I hadn’t though
I saw him again; up in his window looking out onto the streets, he examined them like they were chess pieces, strange. I was in no mood to be hanging about examining an old idiot, I wanted to take her home, it was to be a bit of quiet time, me and her.

On my leave home, I remember the glistening in her eyes; she sparkled like the jewellery she was wearing, thank you British Army for sending me home, even though it would only be a short time.
We walked through Darling Road, such a lovely place, the lights illuminating the streets, how very dim they were though-it gave you a sense of happiness, light was so beautiful considering the dark reaches of hell I had just experienced, and was going back to…
We gazed at each other, and I just put my hand on her waist; we held each other close, all night it seemed like it was an eternity, an eternity which went too quickly.
As I walked here home her Mother came out of the house at a quarter to one in the morning; she criticised me for lack of organisation time wise, but she still thanked me for giving her daughter a night to remember forever.

As I was on that Boat, I heard whispers and ‘The Russians have left the war’.
It was the news I didn’t want to hear as we came to France, we could hear the bombing scattering over the land like rain pinpointing places where it will fall.
My immediate orders were to go over the top again, I did so. I was in a good mood, thinking about my dear sweet Mary-Anne, the photo of her held close to my chest.
The screams of oh god rang throughout my ears, it was walking through a field of blood; the floors painted with a fresh coat of blood, one of my friends right by me helped finish the new coat on the floor, ripped apart by a ‘Minnie’ his hand landed beside me, the remains of his face scattered all around me, his eye on the floor looking up at me. I threw up and fell to the floor; and as the shriek of another Minnie came down, I closed my eyes and just knew what was going to happen.
I woke up in a Hospital bed, the numb feeling in my legs was gone, such a harsh pain it was, the Minnie flew down like a bolt of thunder, and I’d lost my leg. Shrapnel had been caught in my eye, they said I would only be able to see out of the one eye, the shrapnel had dug so far into the Retina, it had completely cut open my eye. I didn’t care, I’d seen my friend disembowelled by those bastard Germans. The reality of it really kicked home as I was on the Ferry, back to a country where there is no war, there are no bombs or screaming, it’s just, home.
When I got there, Mary Anne was waiting for me in Portsmouth, she took one look at me, and ran away, like I was some filthy animal of sorts, I never saw her again, ever.

It’s amazing what a few drinks can to do you?! I’ve got hold of her hand and we are kissing every ten seconds. I need to take her back home; we’re about four hours later than we were supposed to be, but what the hell! This is my life, I’ll do what I want to! I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend, I’m handsome. And then I felt falling, I looked up and saw her screaming to me, I’d fallen off a Bridge, am I going to die?
I woke up in a Hospital bed, the Doctor gradually told me that I would be paraplegic for the rest of my life; I gazed down at my legs and screamed with horror. He told me that when I fell, a shard of glass came into my eye, causing me to go blind in one eye… nothing in the world would have prepared me for this news.
I burst into tears, and I saw her race through the door. I had told her, she hugged me, and she decided that she couldn’t love me any more… because I’m crippled! What a stuck up selfless… Why the hell did I get drunk!? It’s all her fault anyway! I’m going to lose my life and at just 18!

I’d lost my life at just 18, going to war fighting for no cause, supposedly being Patriotic, but it was just War Games, we were being used to fill out blood lust…

I came out of the Hospital on my wheel chair, being escorted by my friend, I asked him one request. Take me to Darling Road.

I saw him again, but this time he was being pushed, oh no. He had broken his legs I had feared, what a shame; it was too bad for something like that to happen, his eyes showed no happiness, but regret and fear.
Take me out there, to Darling Road, I asked.

I looked up at the window, he wasn’t there, I was annoyed, I needed to see him, but then, he was there, being escorted out down a ramp, being pushed towards me, I was nervous. I didn’t want to do it; I didn’t want to meet an old man, of who I bad mouthed just a few days earlier. I didn’t move, I didn’t speak to my friend, he came closer and closer.

I looked at him, he looked exactly like me when I came home, tired, upset and having one hell of an injury to carry with him, he opened up a smile, and I too back.
We looked at each other and smiled, we had only become acquainted, but it still felt like I had known him for years.
Thing was, he was Mary-Anne’s grandson.
Funny, isn’t it?

one word. Wow. This is very emotional, plus many things like this have actually happened in real life. Interesting, i thought you did a great job with the story. I think your style of writing is very creative =D