Storymakers: Ready or Not

Storymakers: Ready or Not

By Lili
Seventh Grade
The Harbor School
Vashon Island, WA

"Present arms!" commanded General Windbee. When I first met him, I chuckled at his name, but my happiness was quickly quelled when I was forced to do push-ups in the mud and rain. I had been preparing for this moment for two years, but now that it had finally come, I didn't want to leave. After Windbee excused us I waved good-bye to my family: My mother, her eyes were filled with tears, her head buried in my stepfather's shoulder, René and Viola, my half sisters beamed up at me, proud of their sister. But as I drew closer, I saw tears streaming down René's rosy cheeks, and I saw the beginning of tears welling up in Viola's eyes.

I reached out my arms to my sisters, and both girls rushed in, hugging me vigorously. No words were exchanged; we all knew that it would hurt too much. I walked over to my mother, a sister on each arm, she ran to me half laughing half sobbing. We hugged, although the busy sounds of talking surrounded us, silence saturated our minds. We just stood there for what seemed like eternity.

"Be safe," she whispered.

"I love you Mama." I replied, and we broke apart. But as I passed them, I saw to my surprise, something I had never seen before. I saw my step dad's eves brimming with tears; this was a new sight to me, mainly because he never showed much emotion towards me.

I walked on the plane, slowly and painfully, as if every step brought me closer and closer to my fate. As I found my seat, I forced myself look at where my family was standing. Would I ever see them again? As the pilot revved up the plane I looked out the window. The plane lurched forward with a jolt, and soon we were flying, leaving the land behind. I watched my family until they were no more than a dot on the vastly expanding landscape.

"Ya sure love ya family don't ya Sarah?" said a boy named Wesley, breaking me from my agonizing thoughts, I concurred with a stiff nod.

"I ain't very fond of my family," he said. I looked at him with surprise and disgust.

"Well, it's only my Pa," he said defensively, "and he ain't been right since my Ma and brother died, that's why I joined the army."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said trying to act sorry. But the truth was, it was his own business, and I don't want to know about it.

Eventually I fell into a restive sleep. Dreams of guns and brutal death filled my had. I awoke to a large bump as we landed, banging my head against the window where I had uneasily slept for a brief time.

"Crud!" I said irritably. I was unhappy to be aroused from my already truncated sleep, and then I remembered where I was.

"Ready?" asked Wesley, I sensed a timorous note in his tone. I nodded, but I most certainly wasn't ready. I stood up in a fruitless attempt, but my legs failed me. All of the other troops ran past me. They were ready, they were prepared. Slowly I pulled myself up and I walked down the aisle. The moment I had anticipated had finally come. I braced myself and stepped out of the plane. A muggy blast of air hit me like a bullet, and I knew I was here, the dust, the smell, the heat. It was obvious, and yet why was I intimidated? Duty called, so I expunged any last remnants of fear. I was here, in a crowded airport in Baghdad, Iraq.

Storymakers: A Creative Challenge for Young Writers, is a program inviting students in sixth, seventh, and eighth grades living in Washington State and British Columbia, Canada, to submit their own original creative writing pieces.