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Historical Fiction Fiction Sad

This story contains sensitive content

Warning to readers: this story involves gun violence and possible graphic imagery.

My Dear Alison,

I Write this letter to you as I spend my last hours alive and therefore must inform you of what has happened to me and to prove my undying love for you.

I never told you that I received a letter from our son on the 14th of August, 1923. I am truly sorry that I spent two years searching for him without telling you what I was doing. All the frustration you must have had with me, yet you still stayed true to me. I will never understand your loyalty towards me when I have been a horrible husband and feckless father.

I was not able to keep our son alive. He sacrificed himself so that I may have a chance to escape the prison camp. I made it to the jungle's edge and waited for him. An hour had passed when I saw him being dragged to the middle of the base. He was covered in slashes, his shirt stained with the blood of people he had killed. I watched as a soldier held a gun to his forehead and spoke words of a different language. Our son Cried out these words, "Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned. Take me away in peace. Take me away so that I may live eternally with you. Help my father live another day so that he may escape from this hell. Dad tell Mother that I love her. Know in your heart that I have always loved you. I will always be watching over." I heard a bang, and my ears started ringing. I looked over to our Son, lying dead on the ground as blood piled around him, forming a river of red flowing towards me. He was surrounded by soldiers. Soldiers that are just following orders so one day, they, too, can hopefully return to their families.

One of them followed the trail of blood towards me, so I started running and stopped at nightfall. I stopped next to a riverbank so I could rest. I was unsure if I could keep running like this the next day, so I built a raft that night and left when the rose that morning.

I had spent almost half the day floating downstream on that river when I heard an electronic echo. I jumped down to my stomach at the noise and scanned my surroundings. I could see people running along the river to my right. The current of the river was pulling me closer to them. They were carrying guns and pointing them in my direction. I was dead still but knew the closer they got, the more obvious I was to be.

I saw some wood firmly wedged into some rocks in the river, so I grabbed ahold, stopping the raft from floating down the river. I looked to the left and studied the terrain. My escape route was clear. I looked to the right, and the soldiers had turned around, to my surprise. I did not hesitate a second more and leapt from that raft to the left side of the riverbank. I ran as fast as I could behind the closest tree to gather my bearings and think about the following planned step toward my escape route. The soldiers heard my footsteps and were hurrying in my direction. I turned my back to the tree, knowing my fate was sealed, I slumped down to a tight ball at the tree's roots. I could hear many footsteps. I believe there were eight men at that moment. All I could hear was silence. It was eerie and cold as a stale wind blew through the air. I listened to the guns reload. They might as well of been beside me. The sound rolled in my ear, repeating itself over and over. Suddenly there was a roar in the distance. I heard the Soldiers scrambling in terror.

There was a scream, and out of nowhere, a giant black cat appeared in front of my face. I was terrified. My whole body was shaking. I bowed my head in fear keeping my eyes locked on the panther. It bowed its head back, its different-coloured eyes locked on mine. Suddenly it bounded forward, teeth bared, claws out. All I could hear was screaming, gunshots, ripping, and shredding sounds. I listened to a single gunshot fire, and the panther made a horrible roar of pain. Then an overwhelming silence breathed through the air. As afraid as I was, I turned to look for the panther. It was lying still, barely breathing. I saw the devastation the panther had done to those people. Everyone was dead, pieces of them all over the place. I felt sick to my stomach, for I had never seen anything so horrifying. I stared in disbelief as I glanced toward the panther. It sounded like it was drowning. I ran toward it, realising the panther had been shot in the chest. My eyes started watering, for this courageous, giant cat saved my life. I sat beside it holding its head in my lap, trying to keep it comfortable. Soon after, I realised it was in pain. I stood up and looked around for something to help it. The only thing I knew would end its pain quickly was a gun. A gun from one of these people that were just following orders. I picked up a pistol and grimaced at the thought of using any weapon. I had always been a non-violent person. I hated the wars, bombings, and murders. I could never stomach the violence some people longed to be a part of, but I had to show this kind soul mercy, especially since it saved my life. In all my years, I would never have expected one of God's creatures to spare me and save my meaningless human life.

I walked towards the panther, my arms shaking as I held the gun up to shoot. I fought everything inside of me to even aim at this hero. I took a deep breath as the creature stared into my eyes as if trying to tell me everything would be ok. It stood up and tried to step toward me but fell. It looked up again. I took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Memories of our son's death flooded my brain. Perhaps the panthers' kindness reminded me of our son.

After spending the rest of the afternoon burning the bodies and burying the panther, I took a tarp from one of the soldiers I burnt to use as shelter. I followed the path I planned out. I had walked for hours into the night, lit by the full moon. I stopped to rest for the night, my stomach growling with hunger. I wished more than anything I could taste your food again, my sweet Alison. I slept peacefully that night. I dreamt of the day I would hold you in my arms again.

The next morning I knew I had to find food. I walked most of the day, and along the way, I found some mangos and berries. As I was walking along, I heard a loud engine. I followed the sound to a fenced-off runway. There were soldiers everywhere. Planes resting in their hangers. There was a single cargo plane resting at one end of the runway, but there were so many people I had no hope of escaping on one of them. I waited hours to study the changeover of soldiers, but there were just so many around. As the sun was setting in the afternoon, they disappeared from sight. I knew this was my shot to get onto that plane. I walked around the side and found a small gate, so I walked through into a hanger. I crept through the parked planes to the runway and made my way to the cargo plane. I opened the door of the plane and snuck inside. I knew the basics of flying a plane from my short time in the Air Reserve when I was at university. I started the engine and taxied towards the runway. As the wheels entered the runway strip, I saw the floodlights suddenly flash on, and soldiers were piling out of the doors with their guns out, ready to shoot. I opened the throttle, and the plane surged forward, and I raced down the runway toward freedom. With the sound of bullets ricocheting off the fuselage, I climbed higher into the air. I heard a loud pop as one of the control cables let go, as a lucky shot shredded it. I struggled for ten or fifteen minutes to keep the plane in the air, desperately trying to put as much distance between me and the airfield as I could. But it was no use. The plane gradually lost height till I could feel the branches of the tallest trees scraping the belly of the plane. Desperately I searched for a clearing to put the plane down in, but there was nothing. Dark green foliage filled the windscreen. All I could hear was bags, crashes and the shriek of tortured metal, and then I knew no more.

I don't know how long it was until I woke up on the ground, but everything hurt.

My dear Alison, this is where we part ways, but not forever. I know one day we shall meet again. Our son and I shall greet you at the gates of gold in the sky with arms wide open ready to receive your embrace. You will always be mine. My dear Alison, I love you to the very end and beyond.

Your loving and devoted Husband,

George Webster

August 24, 2023 09:19

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