They came in hoards. Dozens all at once. We could not stop them in time. They attacked our defenses with unwarranted speed. My father survived their onslaught. I could not bear to witness their fighting. I abhor any form of war. Why must people die for their country? What honor is there in dying for freedom? Fight for freedom, not for oppression.

Let me change the topic.

A new member of the family has arrived today. She is most welcomed. She has the most beautiful eyes. She is very precious. I look forward to teaching her and protecting her from the negative forces in the world.

Anna was quiet. “What’s the matter Anna?”

“It’s all the fighting, Henry.” She replied.

“It’s grates on my nerves too, you aren’t the only one who does not like the idea of war or fighting.”

Anna slams her hand down in frustration.

“Why can’t we just live in harmony with one another? Is that too much to ask?”

“No it isn’t. But it will be difficult for them to see reason. They are too far into it.”

They had us trapped. We had to get out of there quickly. I could not stand remaining here while they fought. We need to leave before the fighting continues. There were too many fallen soldiers. The bodies were piled high. How many people must die before change occurs?

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I’m hoping to become a writer, playwright & novelist. I'm also considering becoming a Historian or librarian at this stage in life. I'm looking for opportunities in performance writing and publishing short stories in literary magazines. I study English and Creative Writing at university.