Random Writing

- Battlefield

He feared nothing.
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He hastily hiked up the side of the rugged cliff, longing to reach flat land after a tiring voyage. After a while, he had arrived, a breath of relief immediately escaping his mouth. He dropped his bags onto the rigid rock foundation and looked down from the precipice, noticing what remained of the famous battlefield he had been searching for all this time.

Rusted bayonets, broken firearms, canteens, bullet-struck helmets, and skeletons of fallen soldiers remain under the soaked dirt, waiting to be dug up. Ruins of submarines submerged deep under the waters, now housing the creatures of the sea. Fighter jets far off in the mountains tucked away in the shadows

Some believed that the souls of the deceased brigades still roamed the area, continuing to fight for the now death-tainted land.

Many sought to visit the land, but it was known to all, the ones who go in, never come out... Or so they thought. 'He' had arrived at the ex-battlefield, and he  would soon return to the safety of his homeland with the articles he desired.

The morning after, he gradually began descending the cliff, reaching the bottom not too long after.

He walked carefully, observing the carcasses of the perished troopers, looking for a specific document. He searched through hundreds of worn out bags and dilapidated storage spaces, until he finally found the thick diary he had scoured the land for.

With curious thoughts and careful fingers, he opened the time-worn journal and began reading...

December 2nd, 1915
I do not care anymore, they can have the land.  I  want to return to the safety of my home, to my family, whom I consider so dear. The frigid winter seems to be giving me hypothermia. I hope my fingers do not freeze off as I dig long tunnels beneath the grounds of combat, I cannot even walk the grounds without falling into a pit filled up with snow. How much longer must we fight for this foolish portion of land?

Careful as he flicked through the pages, he gradually began understanding the soldier's point of view.

January 10th, 1916
The harsh winter has come to an end, yet the war still rages on. It has been two whole years of constant warfare, when will this disastrous conflict stop? I watch my fellow troopers crumble as they get shot. It pains me to witness my hardworking brethren pass away tragically.
Impending doom seems to be dangling above us, perhaps our time has come.

Reaching the end of the journal, he read the final page.

February 21st, 1916
The final page of this journal has come, and so has my time of serving in this war. The battle may not end, but my suffering will. I have no other choice, I must end my own life. I will hold a musket to my head and pull the trigger at dawn, a rather painless method. Perhaps I shall be free in my after-life, a peaceful life without war. I hope for this journal to one day be read, to unleash the words never spoken.
Till my words have been read,
-Tadashi

He takes the book and places it in a protective seal. While he was searching for this journal, he had come across many other treasures, all of which he placed in his leather satchel to take back. He found the evidence he was looking for, and now he could finally prove to his village that not all take joy in conflict and warfare.

They said only a fool would dare walk the waterlogged lands of distress, but he was no fool, he was courageous and determined to prove himself. He looked back at the once war-torn land, for the final time, and then set off into the distance, filled with pride.

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644 words.