The Battlefield! (A rare treat!)
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NB: You won’t believe this, but when searching for a friend recently, I found a piece of writing I wrote when I was 16 years old! It was an English project, and one of the only creative writing pieces I ever got to write for school… Its so rare for me to find any old pieces of writing that have survived this long! Its a very special short story called The Battlefield, and no… its not about war!
The Battlefield
I walked so slowly among the broken glass, “crunch, crunch” it went as it broke into smaller bits beneath my feet. I bent over and picked up a burnt peace of wood, then looked ahead towards the black shell of a former house.
It happened about a month ago during the big storm, I remember the sky that night, roaring at the earth. Then it attacked with a zap of blue, while roaring loudly again and again, and finally attacking once more, only this time a direct hit on the power lines that stood so tall above ground.
Then it happened, about 15 minutes after the attack from the sky. The earth had begun to cry, a loud squeal, and slowly loose its grip on the heavy power pole. It didn’t take long for it to let go and slowly the power pole fell to the ground “THUMP!” it went, the sky began to roar, the rain was coming from all directions as the wind blew and the tree branches fell.
I looked out the window that day and pointed at the roof of the house next door. “The house next door is on fire” I yelled in panic, running to the other rooms. We all put on coats and ran across the street, as the man who lived next door stood outside. Not moving, thinking, breathing… just standing… staring into nothing as the sky took his world away.
The wind picked up somewhere in that moment, embers and bits of wood on fire were flying everywhere. Another neighbor said the fire trucks would be here soon. We all stepped back as a vision of hell came forth. “RUN!” said someone behind us pulling me back, as the front of house before me collapsed. We turned and ran into the house for safety, then we heard sirens. “Finally.” I whispered to myself, as they rushed towards the battle field… followed by police and an ambulance.
That night we did not sleep. On the dawn of the next day we went outside, looking at what had survived the horrific battle. The earth so tired looking and the house nothing but a shell. Everyone from the neighborhood was there to look at the damage the storm had caused to their homes. Never again did I wish to see such a battle, I thought… I jumped over a fallen tree branch in the middle of the road and walked towards some yellow caution tape guarding what was left, what had survived. I picked up a nearby piece of burnt wood and felt like I was being transported back to the night before.
Just then a jolt of reality hit me. I dropped the piece of burnt wood as I heard my name being called, and headed towards my house. Still thinking about the scene of the battle, where the earth clashed the sky.
The first of many battles, I thought… that I would experience in my lifetime.
About The Author
Matty is a 36 year old girl who is an Autistic Poet, Writer and Artist and lives alone in Christchurch New Zealand with a kitty! Matty has given many talks on autism and about being unique in a world that's often not accepting, Matty has also engaged with artist and worked on Art projects Matty usually works on an Art project at the same time as a writing one! This means posts can be a bit delayed!
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That was so intense *smiles* loved how you described everything…its a piece of art within itself…very good work for such a tender age….
Rather good I thought. I can recall having to write an essay ( way way back, ) while a school. about a fire. Was not nearly as descriptive as this little masterpiece,
You have my envy for your writing. Matty. top marks 🙂