I turned restlessly in bed for what seemed like hours before I finally gave in to the fact that this was going to be a sleepless night. My bed sheets felt restricting; I shoved them off and sat up. It was a surprisingly warm night, stuffy. I crawled to the end of my bed and pulled back the heavy curtains. I often did this when I couldn’t sleep. I had always loved how still the world looks at night. There is a lamppost on the path in front of the garden but it’s almost completely hidden by the yellowing leaves from the trees on either side. I pushed the window open as far as I could and breathed the cold air deep into my lungs. I looked up to the stars - there wasn’t many so close to the city- I thought back to when I lived in the country side, the night sky would be completely lit up. My mother moved them to the suburbs after the executions, she wanted to be closer to family, meaning Aunt Deirdre and Uncle Brian, and of course this was pointless because shortly after they arrived they had to flee the country. Uncle Brian had to leave for the same reason his brother (My Father) was shot, he was a suspected member of the rebel army. I always guessed they must have stayed because they had nowhere else to go.
I sat with my legs curled into my side, my arms folded on the window sill and my head resting comfortably on one hand. The cool October breeze covered my skin with goose bumps. I let out a weary sigh as I studied the sky. My father, unlike a lot of solders, was educated. Michael Butler was born into wealth but at the young age of 19 was ostracized from his family for his love of a very beautiful but devastatingly poor young girl, Mary Dolan. I had heard the tale a hundred times as a child it was my favourite bedtime story and was requested nightly. When Michael announced his engagement he was disowned - “the best thing that ever happened to him” he would say – he became Mickey Brady and got a job in a stable. His family had owned horses and he always had a way with them, within two years he had been promoted to a trainer and his wife was pregnant with his daughter. Although the details sometimes changed the story always ended in the same way “She grew up to be as beautiful as her mother, as compassionate as her father and as wild as the country she was named after.”
My father and i could have spent hours looking at stars.
I remembered my father once telling me that the light takes millions of years to travel from the stars to our eyes so actually every time you look at a star you are looking almost three million years into the past. I gazed at the stars thinking about what the stars will look like in a million years. I was still staring at the sky when suddenly there was a bright flash in the distance and a loud bang; I knew instantly that it was gun fire. I was frozen my breath turned rapid as I stared in to the dark, I knew the war was spreading, but I never thought it would reach us so quickly. I waited, staring into the forest where it came from, alert for another shot but it didn’t come, perhaps it was nothing to do with the war. I jumped to my feet and quickly changed into the clothes I had been wearing that day, still not sure what exactly it was I planned to do, and sneaked down the hall to my mother’s room. I quietly peeked round the door, she was fast asleep. I turned swiftly and slid down the stairs grabbing my coat on the banister. I silently retrieved my father’s knife from the old oak chest, clumsily shoved my feet into my boots and without even considering it, shut the door behind me.
I jogged for about a kilometer until I reached the forest where the shot came from. I grew more and more anxious the deeper into the woods I got, I could feel my whole body tensing up. My footsteps were silent as I stepped over branches blown down by the gale force October winds. I had been walking in the forest for about twenty minutes; maybe I had gone too far. I was just considering circling back when I heard whispers. Close whispers. I paused, straining my eyes in the dark searching the tree line; I craned my neck to the left around the huge tree trunk in front of me and immediately pulled it back in. There were two men about two meters away from me. I slid closer to the trunk and crouched down next to it. I strained my ears but their voices were hushed I could only make out parts of their conversation but from what I could hear it was obvious they were arguing.
“…idiot... you better hope...” I could hear the other man better “relax we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Obviously they had severely miscalculated there position. I could tell by their accents they weren’t locals, which meant if this was an act of war then these weren’t rebels.
“...finished interrogation.”
“They said their done with him”
I cringed at the sounds of spluttering and whimpering. The injured man was still alive and it sounded as if he was on the other side of my tree.
“Shut it.” I jumped as another man came out from the behind a tree to my right. He hadn’t seen me. “Parameter is clear boys. Let’s finish him off and get back to camp.”
The quieter man mumbled something but I couldn’t make it out
“He’s right; he’s as good as dead.”
“Alright… back to the road, this way”
I couldn’t help but think it was foolish to leave the man alive as they headed back into the woods in the opposite direction. I stayed still until I couldn’t here and movement just the injured man’s shallow breathing before I crawled around the tree, I saw instantly why they left him alive. The bullet had gone into his chest looks like it punctured a lung by all the blood that was sputtering out his mouth. I only hesitated a second before revealing myself to him.
“Don’t worry” I whispered “I’m going to help you”
He held my gaze for a second before he closed his eyes tightly in pain.
“Open your eyes.” I begged “Stay awake.”
I pulled his body up and propped him against the tree. He opened his eyes and blood spilled out his mouth and down his chin. I supported his head in one hand and brushed his hair out of his face with the other. He looked around thirty and his bright blue eyes looked so out of place against his dirty blood stained skin. All he had on was trousers and a t-shirt I couldn’t even make out the colour from the blood. He stared at me as I wrapped my coat around his shoulders. My heart was beating and all I could think about was that this man was dying; very soon his blue eyes would shut and never open again. Tears rolled down his face making a path through the dirt. I could feel the tears welling up in my own eyes but I whipped them away with my sleeve and pulled my top up around my nose. He had a badge on his chest it said Private Patrick O’Connor
I crouched next to him and stared into his eyes I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to it meant too much to him not to die alone.
“My name is Erin.” I choked out.
“Hello Erin.” I jumped up and spun around quickly towards the voice. The man stood right in front of me, I instinctively moved backwards. Someone else touched my shoulder and I jerked away right into the arms of the third man. He grabbed my wrists is each hand and squeezed them. Tightly they burned as I tried twisting them free. I thrashed violently. Escaping his grasp only for a moment by kicking him in the shins, but I was immediately tackled to the ground, face down in the dirt. One of them held my shoulders down and pushed my head down until I was coughing and choking on the mud. Drowning. I jerked my arm backwards, I could feel flesh so I dug my nails in and tore them apart his skin. Someone roughly grasped my hands and tied them together behind my back.
They pulled me up and shoved me against a tree. I leaned my head down and wiped the mud out of my eyes on my t-shirt. I got a shock to see the damage I had done. Two men held my shoulders to the tree but the other towered above me, a deep scratch from his eye across his cheek gushed with blood. He spoke quietly “Who are you?” but there was a mean edge to his voice that sent a shiver down my spine. He waited for my reply but it didn’t come. He pulled his gun from his belt and pointed it at my head. Adrenaline pulsed trough my veins as I stared at him. My eyes stung from sweat, blood, dirt but I refused to blink. I stared him right in the eyes, daring him to make a move and he stared back daring me to try and run. I heard a click, he took the safety off. Suddenly I didn’t feel so brave. There was a loud moan from O’Connor as he lurched forward, towards us. I had forgot about him, to be honest I was surprised he was still alive. He coughed spluttering blood on the man’s trousers. The man continued to look at me and I could see his face twist into an unsettling look of disgust, I knew what he was about to do but before I could stop him he spun around and fired. Patrick O’Connor went limp, he was dead. The sound of the gunshot rang in my ears. I stumbled backwards banging my head against the tree. I crumbled to the ground as a wave of pain and darkness engulfed me.
