‘Describe A Journey’ – by Roha Khan

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The city was up on fire; tongues of flame crackled, as they licked up whole buildings- sending up a dark column of smoke. The bright light from the fire contrasted against the dark, loomy, smoky, sky. The heat was too much to bear; and so was the chaos.

A flood of people looked on as the rebels burnt down government buildings. Mothers held their crying babies to their bosoms, trying to soothe them. Others ran after their young ones, who were now lost somewhere in the crowd. Men tried to keep an eye on their families and also, somehow managed to protect their belongings.

The whole area was in an uproar and I felt suffocated. I tried to move away from the outraged crowd but I could not; it held me in its middle and threatened to crush me.

A cry of fear went up as the square lit up by a source other than the fire; a swarm of helicopters in the sky. Government and security officials moved in with their weapons. They fired their tear gas, which made the locals scatter. However, the rebels put on their masks and were ready for the counter attack.

The government forces kept on moving in− some tried to deal with the fire, some moved out the innocents, while the rest dealt with the rebels.

I could not understand the situation: why were the countrymen of the same nation fighting against each other? Neighbors were turning on their neighbors.  I do not think I will ever understand.

But there was no way that I could sit by and watch. I made my way through the crowd. Arms held me back, tried to restrain me, but I felt a new kind of energy coursing through me. As my adrenaline glands kicked in, I actually managed to make it to the middle; between the government people and the rebels.

And then everything slowed down for me. I turned to see an official dressed in black- a mask covering his face- load his gun. He pointed it at a rebel. I followed the line of his aim and saw it point towards a rebel. But from my point of view I could see a little girl running towards the same rebel: the next thought sickened me.

Without actually considering it, I ran. Guns fired around me but I ran. Somewhere a man shouted, but I ran. A bullet swished past me but I ran. I watched to my right as the man’s finger was about to pull the trigger. The little girl had almost reached the rebel and was almost in front of him. I looked to my right again as the man pulled the trigger.

I felt a jolt as I turned the last page of my novel and found out that I will have to wait to continue my journey in the next book of the series.

About froebelianwriters

I am an English Language teacher teaching O'Levels Edexcel and CIE A Levels at Froebel's International School, Islamabad. I am also working as a Subject Specialist Literacy consultant for the same school. Writing and reading has always been a passion and I try my utmost to instill these habits and hobbies in my students as well. I can be reached/contacted at fabbas227@hotmail.com or 03365287335 Happy reading!

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