Something I wrote
Answering the latest Meme reminded me of some things that I wrote a few years ago.
This was influenced by Band of Brothers and a game series called Brothers in Arms. I wrote some poems too because my cousin (who has a published collection of his own poems, and he is also a really good painter, imho) said that writing them would help me get better at writing the short stories. I also wrote two other short stories, both are obvious copies of Lovecraft's style, but I haven't translated them yet. I'll work on the shorter one and post it later. It's really dark, I wrote most of it when I was in a boring class a couple of years ago. :D
I haven't written anything lately, don't really know why, maybe I'll try to come up with/finish something. I started a longer "Lovecraft story" and wrote a couple of pages but I've never finished that. I took a bite at a sci-fi story as well, had a few good ideas but put that off too.
But enough talk, here it goes:
A Russian Soldier's Journal from the 2nd World War (at the end of '44):
"We are praying, wishing we would fall in the town where we were assigned to. Winter is here, we can notice that 'cause it is cold already but there isn't any snow yet. We are hoping that the first snow will fall down while we'll be infiltrating the town. If we fall once or twice 'cause of the snow we won't be mad 'bout it, the germans will be much more uncomfortable. They aren't prepared for the snow or the winter itself; or a small squad with a suicidal mission. Our goal, although it seems like the higher ups came up with a good plan, makes me doubt the humanity of our leaders. Going against the nazis' army with 16 comrades, even if we know the area better, is insane. We'll split up of course and move between the houses but we'll probably be slaughtered anyway. No one has a chance to escape this crazy mission. The high ranking officer who's with us doesn't really want to fight the enemy and he doesn't give a crap about us. He's followin' us by falling back a little bit and he's equipped with a machine gun and a load of mags. We have machine guns too but only with two mags. So we have to be careful with ammunition. The time for rest is over, we go marchin forward."
"I've survived but they are holding as a prisoner. They haven't confiscated my diary, they said they'll take it away every day, check it and give it back if I don't write anything 'bout the place where they're holding me. Dumb bastards. I'm surrounded by dirty walls without any windows so I can be anywhere, I can't write down the location, or how does it look like outside of my cell. Now I'm tired, will write later."
"Either their doc' is very ignorant or they don't care about me, not even a little bit."
"When I asked how many days I've been unconscious for, they didn't answer. I don't know what day is it, what time of the day is it and I've got no idea of the date. I feel like I'm torn out of the world. My nazi guards are spanding their days very happily. Like the "allied" forces aren't on their doorstep... I wonder if this alliance holds till the end of the war, and if it does how much longer will the leaders act like they really like each other."
"I think these guards are happy 'cause they don't have to be there on the warfield. They only have to waste their time at a warm and dry place."
"I think my toilet is clogged up. What am I sayin'? It's a hole in the fucking corner of my cell... It leads to some kind of a canal but the top of it is sealed with bars. I've been trying to get the guards' attention but no one came. I haven't seen the doc' for a long time either. I need some new bandages."
"Today a woman came and started cleaning. A soldier came with her. I tried to tell 'em my small problem with my toilet but all I got as an answer was a hit between my ribs. The woman was the same who's son was saved by Oleg. It's quite an incredible story. When we reached the town it was snowing heavily and everything was covered with a thick layer of it. We started the battle on top, the power of surprise was with us. As it later became clear, the power of the german war industry was worth more... But they came to their senses - sadly quite quickly - and they took the lead. From this point, it would have been a massacre. But out of nowhere we noticed a young kid out in the streets. He must have been deaf or somethin' because he should have heard the noise of the gunfight. When he got in the line of fire Oleg, an old veteran threw away his Khalasnikov and started running towards the kid. The officer shot him in the leg. He almost fell but kept on goin'. He got the shot into his knee but he didn't stop. Most of the germans stopped shooting, they saw the kid who barely had any warm clothes on. Oleg got to the kid and grabbed him. Then a woman, apparantly his mother rushed out of a house, shouting the kids name. When she saw him I thought she'll faint or be hysterical, but no. She pulled out a gun from her belt - why did she need that, I'm wondering - and fired. Once. And again, and again. She stopped. I couldn't believe what I just saw. She shot her own son?! Someone realized what really happened and shouted: -Oleg! Oleg!!? - I didn't understand why he is calling the seasoned veteran's name so I looked at him. It was a bloody sight. The woman killed him... BUT HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE HER SON. I was frozen. I couldn't watch anything else but his corpse. His skull was wrecked. That woman fired two bullets from a close distance into his head. She killed the man in cold blood who was trying to get the kid out of the danger zone. She stepped next to the bloody mess and rolled it over, then picked up the kid and ran into her house. The germans started firing again and my comrades returned it. I was just kneeling there and couldn't move. I'm just a young soldier who wasn't ready for the brutality of war. Just too young and not ready... Oleg tried to cover the kid with his body 'cause some of his comrades were still firing at the germans. They didn't return the fire just took cover. They knew that they had more weapons and ammunition and maybe they knew the kid too. They let him try to save that little boy. But some of our men kept on shootin'. They didn't care about it. At that moment I just wanted to be at the safety of my family's home. A few seconds later I came out of this shock and would've start shooting back - or running away, not sure anymore - when a branch couldn't take the weight of the snow on it and fell down right on my head. I don't remember anything after that moment, the next thing I do was when I woke up in my cell. And now here is that woman staring at me with an undisguised hatred in her eyes. I risked asking a question. I asked her why did she shoot? She said "because that dirty russian wanted to take my child as a hostage". I almost started to yell at her but I knew that that the guard wouldn't appreciate that. So I said it quietly, squeezing the words between my teeth: "- He wanted to save your son, not to use him as a shield. Your fellow countrymen weren't so self-sacrificing." The woman was surprised to hear this, the guard's head turned red, the butt of the rifle struck down, I fell unconscious. After this I barely got any food or water. Maybe I shouldn't have offended these noble people."
"I'm starving."
"Life is leaving my body day by day. My waste isn't in such a big pile as I expected it to be. Well, it's logical, if I don't get food to eat I can't crap. It's easy, at least I can think. It's good isn't it? Who am I askin'? I'm going crazy... I haven't seen the gouards or anyone for days - I think. Hours or minutes, weeks or days, they are all just a blur. And I can't hear anything from outside. Why is everything so damn quiet? Maybe they left this outpost or something. Maybe someone will find me and free me. Just hurry up a little bit, OK? If you won't, I'll die. And you don't want that right?"
"I don't believe in God but if someone will save me, I will. I promise, my Lord."
"Some time passed away. No one came. I won't have strength to write much longer. The pen is runing out of ink. The Germans' pen. They gave it to me, hoping I'll kill myself with it. Sorry to dissapoint you guys, he-he. Well, they were wrong, till now. I don't know which one is worse: to kill myself or starve to death. I'll soon know the answer for this. If I run out of ink, I'll use my blood. I won't be alive for much longer, at least I can use it for something. If it can't keep me alive, than it will help keeping my thoughts alive."
"Somehow a spider got into my cell. I ate it. It wasn't big. My brain is slowing down. I can hardly think."
"I can remember something Oleg told me once, when we had some time to rest, about people. It sounded somethin' like this: "There are three kinds of people. The first type is the man who can be discribed as a man whose shadow is always behind him. He lives in the past, so to say. He doesen't take care of himself. He's only interested in the things happened in the past. The second type is whose shadow is next to him. He lives to seize the day. Now, the third one is the best. His shadow is in front of him. He sees the past and the present, but lives for the future. He builds on the past and present times, but he knows how important the future is." Hm, not sure if it makes sense now, or if I can remeber it right, my head feels dizzy. Maybe there was some kind of venom in that spider. Can I stop this bleeding, I wonder... Or will theese be my last thoughts?"
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So, that was it. There could be a few (many) mistakes in it, and I'm not sure if you'll get everything I wanted to express, it's a lot harder to translate from Hungarian to English.
I'm not sure where I wanted to go in the last paragraph with the three types, or if it makes any sense, it sounded kind of interesting at the time.
If anybody reads this, please don't be too hard on me. :D
This was influenced by Band of Brothers and a game series called Brothers in Arms. I wrote some poems too because my cousin (who has a published collection of his own poems, and he is also a really good painter, imho) said that writing them would help me get better at writing the short stories. I also wrote two other short stories, both are obvious copies of Lovecraft's style, but I haven't translated them yet. I'll work on the shorter one and post it later. It's really dark, I wrote most of it when I was in a boring class a couple of years ago. :D
I haven't written anything lately, don't really know why, maybe I'll try to come up with/finish something. I started a longer "Lovecraft story" and wrote a couple of pages but I've never finished that. I took a bite at a sci-fi story as well, had a few good ideas but put that off too.
But enough talk, here it goes:
A Russian Soldier's Journal from the 2nd World War (at the end of '44):
"We are praying, wishing we would fall in the town where we were assigned to. Winter is here, we can notice that 'cause it is cold already but there isn't any snow yet. We are hoping that the first snow will fall down while we'll be infiltrating the town. If we fall once or twice 'cause of the snow we won't be mad 'bout it, the germans will be much more uncomfortable. They aren't prepared for the snow or the winter itself; or a small squad with a suicidal mission. Our goal, although it seems like the higher ups came up with a good plan, makes me doubt the humanity of our leaders. Going against the nazis' army with 16 comrades, even if we know the area better, is insane. We'll split up of course and move between the houses but we'll probably be slaughtered anyway. No one has a chance to escape this crazy mission. The high ranking officer who's with us doesn't really want to fight the enemy and he doesn't give a crap about us. He's followin' us by falling back a little bit and he's equipped with a machine gun and a load of mags. We have machine guns too but only with two mags. So we have to be careful with ammunition. The time for rest is over, we go marchin forward."
"I've survived but they are holding as a prisoner. They haven't confiscated my diary, they said they'll take it away every day, check it and give it back if I don't write anything 'bout the place where they're holding me. Dumb bastards. I'm surrounded by dirty walls without any windows so I can be anywhere, I can't write down the location, or how does it look like outside of my cell. Now I'm tired, will write later."
"Either their doc' is very ignorant or they don't care about me, not even a little bit."
"When I asked how many days I've been unconscious for, they didn't answer. I don't know what day is it, what time of the day is it and I've got no idea of the date. I feel like I'm torn out of the world. My nazi guards are spanding their days very happily. Like the "allied" forces aren't on their doorstep... I wonder if this alliance holds till the end of the war, and if it does how much longer will the leaders act like they really like each other."
"I think these guards are happy 'cause they don't have to be there on the warfield. They only have to waste their time at a warm and dry place."
"I think my toilet is clogged up. What am I sayin'? It's a hole in the fucking corner of my cell... It leads to some kind of a canal but the top of it is sealed with bars. I've been trying to get the guards' attention but no one came. I haven't seen the doc' for a long time either. I need some new bandages."
"Today a woman came and started cleaning. A soldier came with her. I tried to tell 'em my small problem with my toilet but all I got as an answer was a hit between my ribs. The woman was the same who's son was saved by Oleg. It's quite an incredible story. When we reached the town it was snowing heavily and everything was covered with a thick layer of it. We started the battle on top, the power of surprise was with us. As it later became clear, the power of the german war industry was worth more... But they came to their senses - sadly quite quickly - and they took the lead. From this point, it would have been a massacre. But out of nowhere we noticed a young kid out in the streets. He must have been deaf or somethin' because he should have heard the noise of the gunfight. When he got in the line of fire Oleg, an old veteran threw away his Khalasnikov and started running towards the kid. The officer shot him in the leg. He almost fell but kept on goin'. He got the shot into his knee but he didn't stop. Most of the germans stopped shooting, they saw the kid who barely had any warm clothes on. Oleg got to the kid and grabbed him. Then a woman, apparantly his mother rushed out of a house, shouting the kids name. When she saw him I thought she'll faint or be hysterical, but no. She pulled out a gun from her belt - why did she need that, I'm wondering - and fired. Once. And again, and again. She stopped. I couldn't believe what I just saw. She shot her own son?! Someone realized what really happened and shouted: -Oleg! Oleg!!? - I didn't understand why he is calling the seasoned veteran's name so I looked at him. It was a bloody sight. The woman killed him... BUT HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE HER SON. I was frozen. I couldn't watch anything else but his corpse. His skull was wrecked. That woman fired two bullets from a close distance into his head. She killed the man in cold blood who was trying to get the kid out of the danger zone. She stepped next to the bloody mess and rolled it over, then picked up the kid and ran into her house. The germans started firing again and my comrades returned it. I was just kneeling there and couldn't move. I'm just a young soldier who wasn't ready for the brutality of war. Just too young and not ready... Oleg tried to cover the kid with his body 'cause some of his comrades were still firing at the germans. They didn't return the fire just took cover. They knew that they had more weapons and ammunition and maybe they knew the kid too. They let him try to save that little boy. But some of our men kept on shootin'. They didn't care about it. At that moment I just wanted to be at the safety of my family's home. A few seconds later I came out of this shock and would've start shooting back - or running away, not sure anymore - when a branch couldn't take the weight of the snow on it and fell down right on my head. I don't remember anything after that moment, the next thing I do was when I woke up in my cell. And now here is that woman staring at me with an undisguised hatred in her eyes. I risked asking a question. I asked her why did she shoot? She said "because that dirty russian wanted to take my child as a hostage". I almost started to yell at her but I knew that that the guard wouldn't appreciate that. So I said it quietly, squeezing the words between my teeth: "- He wanted to save your son, not to use him as a shield. Your fellow countrymen weren't so self-sacrificing." The woman was surprised to hear this, the guard's head turned red, the butt of the rifle struck down, I fell unconscious. After this I barely got any food or water. Maybe I shouldn't have offended these noble people."
"I'm starving."
"Life is leaving my body day by day. My waste isn't in such a big pile as I expected it to be. Well, it's logical, if I don't get food to eat I can't crap. It's easy, at least I can think. It's good isn't it? Who am I askin'? I'm going crazy... I haven't seen the gouards or anyone for days - I think. Hours or minutes, weeks or days, they are all just a blur. And I can't hear anything from outside. Why is everything so damn quiet? Maybe they left this outpost or something. Maybe someone will find me and free me. Just hurry up a little bit, OK? If you won't, I'll die. And you don't want that right?"
"I don't believe in God but if someone will save me, I will. I promise, my Lord."
"Some time passed away. No one came. I won't have strength to write much longer. The pen is runing out of ink. The Germans' pen. They gave it to me, hoping I'll kill myself with it. Sorry to dissapoint you guys, he-he. Well, they were wrong, till now. I don't know which one is worse: to kill myself or starve to death. I'll soon know the answer for this. If I run out of ink, I'll use my blood. I won't be alive for much longer, at least I can use it for something. If it can't keep me alive, than it will help keeping my thoughts alive."
"Somehow a spider got into my cell. I ate it. It wasn't big. My brain is slowing down. I can hardly think."
"I can remember something Oleg told me once, when we had some time to rest, about people. It sounded somethin' like this: "There are three kinds of people. The first type is the man who can be discribed as a man whose shadow is always behind him. He lives in the past, so to say. He doesen't take care of himself. He's only interested in the things happened in the past. The second type is whose shadow is next to him. He lives to seize the day. Now, the third one is the best. His shadow is in front of him. He sees the past and the present, but lives for the future. He builds on the past and present times, but he knows how important the future is." Hm, not sure if it makes sense now, or if I can remeber it right, my head feels dizzy. Maybe there was some kind of venom in that spider. Can I stop this bleeding, I wonder... Or will theese be my last thoughts?"
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So, that was it. There could be a few (many) mistakes in it, and I'm not sure if you'll get everything I wanted to express, it's a lot harder to translate from Hungarian to English.
I'm not sure where I wanted to go in the last paragraph with the three types, or if it makes any sense, it sounded kind of interesting at the time.
If anybody reads this, please don't be too hard on me. :D