My Breath came out in thick sheets of white smoke. It was so cold I almost couldn't stand it. "It's the middle of a Canadian winter I'd be lying if I said I wasn't cold." I mumbled to myself.
Alas I stood there never moving to try and create warmth in myself. Dead bodies of fallen soldiers lay lifeless and unmoved. The war, this massacre was never supposed to happen. Peace disrupted by the huge black bombs dropped on our once beautiful nation. The black soot covering my body, from the top of my flowing messy short blonde hair to the tip of my converse clad feet. I walked slowly towards the remains of houses in a small suburban area, destroyed, just piles of crumbled concrete. I want to cry but I can't I must be strong for my nation. I look to the ground and see the flag, tattered and worn. I pick up the symbol and hold it high above my head and yell "I'm proud to be Canadian!"
Many weeks and days passed. I walked empty highways. Under bridges the sound of my steps intensified and became louder. Scraps of food found along the way, just barley enough to keep me from starving. I often saw wreaked cars on the side of roads. I finally arrived in my home town, the city of Belleville. I walk along the streets that I used to run to with open arms when my father came home after a night of heavy drinking. *Crunch* I hear the faint sound of combat boots hitting gravel in the distance. "Oh no!" I whisper.
The loud footsteps of American soldiers boomed on the cracked concrete. I duck into a small store that had been abandon by the owner when the war begun. My breath quickened as I heard them talking. "Anyways my buddy and I where on the front line and we..." I stepped in, seemed like an interesting story. "Then all of a sudden he dropped dead". I shuddered at his brief explanation of his 'friends' death.
I drew in a sharp breath as I heard a *crack* from underneath my feet. I looked down to glare at the old plastic tubing on the ground, snapped in two by my weight. I tilted my head to stare forwards into the cold, dark eyes of the men. My crystal blue eyes must have gleamed with panic and worry, because the cold stares had turned into sadistic joy. They both had menacing smirks on there faces. I turned to run, adrenaline pumping through my veins, my heart pounding against my chest and my head racing with possibilities. 'Would I be caught?' 'Will I get away? 'What will happen?' I was pulled from my thoughts and into reality when I felt a strong grasp on my arm. I struggled to shake away from the soldiers iron grip. He spit in my face, salty saliva dripped down my face. My pale skin clearly showed the reddening mark from his hands. "Who are you?" one the two soldiers asked me. "Answer me when I'm talking to you!" He yelled, a hint of a southern accent laced his voice. When I stayed silent the second man smacked me in the back of the head, hard. "K- Kenny" I stuttered out, my vision blurring slightly. "We need to take him in for questioning." The blonde headed soldier stated firmly.
I sat on the old cracked road playing with a rip in my pale blue jeans as they argued on what they were to do. I don't know why it never occurred to me that I could have escaped because you could clearly see how stupid they where by not putting me in any confines. As they continued rambling I decided to get to my feet and dust myself off, I slowly got up from my spot. I became dizzy almost instantly, my eyesight blurred and my vision was filled with black dots, soon I was surrounded by darkness. The last thing I remember is my face laying flush against the pavement. I fall in and out of conciseness hearing small bits of conversations. When I fully recovered I was in a dark room.
