Cold war: Continuation

War has always been a part of Connor’s life. In the small village he grew up in, war was all people talked about, maybe because it was all there was to talk about. Everyone's relatives were soldiers, so most of the gossip was about how the war was going.

Even the little kids, who knew nothing about the horrors of the war, participated. They used long, dirty sticks as guns and acted out battles for no real reason other than boredom.

Connor’s mom never let him join in though, unlike most people in their town, she didn’t really have any opinion on the war. Whenever she caught our neighbors gossiping about it, she just glared and walked away.

“Mom, I miss dad, when is he going to come back?” A young 9-year-old Connor sat on the creaky old wooden chair in the small cabin him and his mom owned.

“Oh…you see Connor, dad’s busy with the war, ok? He’ll come back when it settles down.”

Connor frowned, she said the same thing last year, and the year before that.

Connor’s mom noticed this, and her expression softened.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is. Why don’t you go outside and play, I have to go to the market.”

At his mother's words Connor quickly jumped out of the chair and ran outside to play, he had attempted to climb a tree the other day, and he was determined to-

“CONNOR!”

Connor snapped out of his trance, lowering his rifle and looking to his right. A worried, snow-covered medic looked at Connor with suspicion.

“You've been aiming at some tree with a crazy look in your eye for…a while now.”

The medic looked Connor up and down, and eventually nodded.

“Just making sure you’ve fully recovered from the encounter 2 days ago, you seem fine to me, so I’ll be going now. If you need me, you’ll know where to find me.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Connor watched the medic walk through the trench, out of his sight. He let out a breath he didn't realize was holding in, watching the cold air rise up into the sky. That's right, it's only been 2 days. His eyes scanned over the tree line, wondering if he was being watched by the enemy.

He stepped down back into the trench, patrolling. He didn’t have a real reason to do this, but the new officer that was assigned to them said it was ‘crucial to the mental health of my men’.

He listened to the sounds of his and his comrades' worn-out boots hitting the wooden floor covering of the trench, strangely enough, the ambient noise calmed him.

He eventually notices a large group of his comrades walking somewhere, idly chatting.

“Hey! Where are you all going?”

One of the soldiers turns around and chuckles at Connor.

“Did you forget? It's Sunday, we’re all going to the ‘church’ to pray.”

Oh. Connor had forgotten what day it was, hell, he didn’t even know what month it was.

“Well, wait for me, I’m coming too.”

While Connor genuinely did believe in God, going to church was just an excuse to do something.

When they made it to the church, which was dirty and didn't even have windows, all the way in the backlines of the trenches, they had to leave their weapons and gear outside. Connor found this…weird, but as the priest put it, ‘you shall not be harmed in the lord's house’.

They sat down on the dusty pews and began. Connor felt uncomfortable for some reason, they’re in the middle of a war and-

BOOM

The whole building shook as the sky seemed to light up for a split second. Connor’s legs moved before his mind did, running out of the church and grabbing his rifle and equipment.

“THEIR BOMBING US! THEIR BOMBING US!”

Connor ran as fast as he could to the frontline, watching as flashes of light irritated his eyes from all directions. The light wasn't the only thing irritating him, his ears felt they were gonna fall off, the screams, the loud explosions, they all made him lose focus.

BOOM

After trudging through snow and falling almost twice, he slid into the front trench and looked around, trying to remember the location of the emergency bunker they were taught to hide in during bombings.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING - LISTEN - THERE! - MOVE!”

Connor barely heard the man as he pushed Connor down the trench, causing Connor to run out of instinct. He didn't look back as he ran through the zig zag lines of the trenches.

BOOM

Suddenly he was in the air, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He thought for a second, that he had died, or was going to. Then suddenly, he hit the ground, rough and fast, his face connecting with the hard wood of the trench.

He slowly stood up, but stumbled, he couldn’t feel his legs, or his right arm. He resorted to crawling. His vision flashed and blurred, and his ears rang and hurt. “D-DAMN IT!”

He couldn’t see his rifle; he couldn't really see anything. His face hit the ground for a second time as he felt something wet and cold run down his back. Blood? Piss? Who cares…I…don’t…

The End