A Time of Blood

Chapter 1

The date? 17th May 2018. 

That's what it says on my exam paper as I scribble my name down with my pen. Albert White. I don't feel particularly prepared for my history exam, but I suppose I have to get it over and done with. I'm fascinated by history anyway. The wars, the triumphs, the pain and the technology advancements. My interests lie in war though, not because I condone it of course, but because of the fact my dad is a soldier.

Sargent Winston White, fighting for the UK with honour. He told me he wasn't interested in the army until he learned about the wars that have happened in the past, and he wants to protect his country as well as he can. My mother doesn't agree, but she sticks by him all the same. That's what its like in my family, we respect each other no matter what.

Oh, right, history exam... I skim through the first few questions and try to remember all the dates and facts. It's hard, even for me, who bought dozens of textbooks just for me to be as clueless as I was before I bought them. I admit this might have something to do with my lack of interest in facts, but rather the fact I enjoy the trivia. Things other people might not know, things we aren't taught. Things that make me visualise what went on back then.

The last question catches my eye: "Do we really know exactly what happened in the past? Explain and justify your answer."

The model answer would be no, none of us were alive to witness it, but I can't help to question it. We could know, stories could have been passed down through generations, although we wouldn't be able to pinpoint anything. Or maybe someone today was still alive back then? Doubtful... But if someone did know the exact details...

Who am I kidding? I don't want to lose marks just because I debated on the last question. I just copy down the model answer, hand in my sheet and leave. As I pick up my bag, my history book grabs my attention. The cover is really detailed, with a pocket watch in front of a multicoloured background. The colours are inverted too, which makes it even more eye-catching.  The watch part has always mesmerised me though. It's so old-fashioned, and it makes me think of a young lad, gazing at his pocket watch, waiting for his sweetheart to show up with a smile. Or an old man, wondering where the time has gone in the day, swearing it was 2 just a second ago when it is really 5.

I decided I'd go out and see if I could buy one. Surely somebody sells them somewhere right? There are only a couple of antique shops in my town, scarcely hanging on because people nowadays are interested in new products, not the old. I appreciate both, I am amazed at how far our technology has come, but I still love seeing where it came from, how it was normal back then to write letters with a quill instead of sending a text. 

I think this as I shoot a text to my dad. "Exam done, going out to shop in town."

I always text my dad more than my mother. He's taught me everything I wasn't taught in school, he inspired me to work hard and be respectful of those around, he's shown me how to do so many sports and arts. He's the best dad anyone could ever ask for. My mother, however, wasn't involved much. She didn't have the same interests as me and my dad and tended to keep to herself. I still love her very dearly, just not as much as my dad.

I leave the school, turning the corner towards the town centre. I planned to go to Jimmy's Antique Market first. The owner is very friendly, and he always tells me stories about everything I buy, all of which are fake. The stories range from how a ghost haunted the pottery, and curses lay upon the badges of fallen soldiers. Every visit left me laughing and joking along with him, playing along until I get a text saying I have to go home. I find the shop empty as per usual as I walk inside.

.     .     .

But little did I know that what I thought would be a funny story would land me in a whole lot of trouble.