June 3rd, 1940 Ominous skies lie above my head. The night has fell and all I can think about is how I’m going to live through this. As I glare at the ground, I see men, fallen men with bloody piercings in their heads. This is a living nightmare, and the downside is the explosions. The Nazi’s, that’s who we’ve been fighting. They brought a weapon, gas bombs. But when someone brings a weapon, us British bring on a solution. A sword has a shield, a bullet has a vest, a laser has a forcefield, and an arrow has a target. What now? Gas has a mask. 11/4/2020 I have a question that is flying through my head. And when a question occurs, there is always an answer. Did World War 2 actually end? Now you're thinking “Of course! In fact the year was 1945!" We'll I'll have you know you're wrong. Imagine a vortex, running through every atom of every item. The time vortex, the only idea that brings space through time. The time vortex is wider than 1,000,000 suns but can fit into an atom. But what if the vortex broke through an atom, releasing an infinite space through a limited one. A space time continuum would occur, when time and space fight each other to where that period of time is forced into a time lock. A new dimension is created, and all that happens is that space is the only area in the dimension. Blinding lights leak of the phosphorus atoms, my eyes are being swarmed in white power. I grab my microscope and tear to the table. Upon my eyes is not an untamable isotope, yet a space time continuum. June 4th,1940 A thousand shades of black smoke in the sky, a thousand shades of white bone in the flesh, two thousand shades of death and blood is all I see. Seven tents lie among the hill, each with an assigned number.43,46,12,98,66,23,149. Every now and then I can't help but observe every single physical property I see and feel. My mind gets all crooked, everything gets dark but the spot of focus. Words swarm through my head making me just wanting to fly off this bridge. But I'm fighting for queen and country. I cannot let my people down. The things you see when your at war, they'd really change a man. The terror, the bone, the cries for help in a lost battlefield of hope. As signing up for a soldier, I'm admitting to die. It's suicide I tell you. But it's murder too, excuse that, I'm doing this so tomorrow Britain will stand proud and strong, we shall not fall to Germany. For we already fought Prussia once, they take on the approach of changing names and conquering the world? Have fun with that.
"What are you doing Russel? Writing your mum?" General Tyler stormed up to me. I had been sitting in a ditch. Dirt spreads from the earth to my clothing, but what should I care. Above the brown muddy trench was tent 149, the tent of the general. Three GP's were parked behind the tent. A , lustrous green metal had been strung atop its surface, with black grubby tires to screech the blood out of any living man. Light reflects into my eyes, and I accidentally roll them when Tyler comes along. "We ain't gunna be winning this war unless ye gunna fight. Jest' shoot, don't roll ye eyes! Soldier, next time ye gunna be Rollin de eyes like dat, dis ain't gunna be one fine time fer ye, okay? I slowly nod my head. I hustle out of the ditch, stumbling here and there. It’s all funny, Tyler’s Pop was from Britain, yet his mum was West Indian, wonder where he got the accent. Tyler lived in America’s Texas when he was just in his childhood. Maybe thats where he got it from.The sun’s light can blind a guy like me,my pupils can’t help but bore into the light. I have dreams that time is locked. And the sun’s brightness falls to the dirt in the ground. That time itself falls apart and I am locked in space for 80 years. But the first part of the dream is starting to appear. Everywhere I’ll go, a clump of dirt will go from brown, greasy, black, and grimey to this white substance. White as snow can be. It’s albino dirt I tell you. “Hey! Get out of that ditch! You know, those are for when the Japanese throw a missile, or a load of combustibles. If you sit there, It’ll all crumble down to where we have no shelter! If your going to die, you might as well die trying to stay alive!” General George Patton was standing before me, the leader of the seventh army. “Y’know, If those Japanese bomb us then what are you going to do? You’ll need a mask. Now trust me Russell, this mask will save your life. Imagine a world with black smoke through the skies, twenty years from now, war still going on. That sounds crazy but if the Japanese bomb us, and you don’t have a mask, then you’ll die for sure. One death takes the loss of thousands. If everyone in this camp were to think that”-----------------------------------------------------------------------“Shoooew!” Planes storm by the clouds. All with a red circle in the middle of a white frame. No doubt, it’s Japan. Patton hands me the mask and gestures to put it on as fast as I could. Patton pushed his way of the ditch and tore to the shed. I knew one thing, he wasn’t coming back alive. The Japanese know who’s who, the shed is yet too far away. “Crchunk!” The first bomb came down, landing to the grey pavillion. Sparks fly far as the eye can see, black smoke comes to the nose and eye, and the power is unbelievable.I glare back at Patton, who’s about to sprint to the shed on the
GP. The second plane is coming forward, looking like its loaded with death,blood,murder,conquer,war, and everything from anyone’s worst nightmare. As the shiny green tears to the shed, the second plane comes, hurling another bomb towards the Gp’s. An explosion blows the fifth hill, luckily the ditches are unseeable. Patton’s first two fingers fell to the fire. Red fire is approaching,streaks of blood fly through the fire. My head stops, all goes black but the blood in the finger flare. All I can think about is physical properties. Though I’m a thousand yards away, the foul odor of his blood fills the air. Its like I’m feeling the blood from so far away, the liquid, dark red blood. The colour of a berry, yet with a mixed in black, I’m observing everything about it, without changing its properties. Its strange I tell you absolutely strange. The blood starts to turn that blinding light onto me. It seems everything I observe, turns to that white light that bores into yoyur eyes. It’s like knowing everything, and learning everything, while not knowing anything and forgetting everything. It’s an indescribable feeling of confusion. To such a high level, such a high complication and complexity, you don’t know what’s happening at all. It’s the weirdest thing. Suddenly, everything gets normal again, Patton is already to the shed. A finale of bombs is brought among the plain. Seven planes in a triangle formation throw fourteen bombs down to the grassy mud. Patton goes too fast, the GP is flattening grass, and the clouds filled with blood. The twelfth bomb hits next to the GP, and he falls unconscious. Oblivious to anything else, I race to the general, and pull him to a surface. A large bloody gash was ripped into his shoulder, another in his calf. Blood floods to my hands, my green sash, studded with rank lie among my chest. Below the sash, a blue tunic, with a large leather belt squeezing me tightly. I take off my sash and belt, making me look like a freak show but really I’m saving a life. Blood starts to leak through the sash I bonded to his skin, tightening it with my belt. As for the shoulder, I used a grey pant leg, and my shoe buckles. “Patton, are you awake?” Spoke Claire, the medic. She had been watching him for seven hours but he hadn’t awoke. A glint of light had popped from his iris, he was alive. A slight grin starts to appear, but I know it’s because he’s alive. White lights started to emit from his gash. Claire had just unraveled it and was oblivious to the light. The odor of dark smoke, flowing through the gash. A red and white appearance, with an edge of black from the combustion. Green liquid comes to fire from the burnt flesh every half hour or so. I assure you that won’t be the last time I save a life.
11/5/2020 Blinding lights? Where has that been mentioned before? The continuum on my desk is the connection to the never ending war, locked in time forever until now. Imagine a second Britain, a second Germany, A second Japan, and a second United states on the map. Not just in the ocean, but on top of our United states. The entire west coast will be covered with land, a mass of mountain will be added to this Earth. These are the troubles we now face. June 5th,1940 “A tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye, a life for a life.” Patton spoke those words yesterday, and they keep on going through my mind. Was it about me? He gave me the mask, I gave him the coverings. Patton, interesting man. I can’t help thinking of how much he reminds me of my pop back in Chiswick. My daughter Ima, she was killed in a Chiswick attack in 1939. While I was at the market, a sudden noise dropped on the south chiswick. I stumbled home, thinking about all of the things that could’ve happened to Ima and my wife, Beth. That thought tormented me all the way home, as I reached the house, all I saw were burnt houses and bloody wastelands. In the heap of dust and blood were two bodies and a gem that I had given to Ima.The street was always stained with that smell. Every time I walked by, the stench of smoke filled my nose. As the news spread, and we learned the Nazis had been attacking, I certainly did what I must do. Avenge my daughter. “Hey dere! Soldier, ye betta get to de second pavillion, dey givin ye dis big award. T’won’t you go?” I quietly nod my head, as I hop of the ditch to the grassy plain.The hillside looks like it could go on forever, like a book you never want to end. The green grass is amazingly vivid, and pops out brighter than the sun. A tree lay atop the eighteenth hill, with an amazingly large trunk. The trunk starts to grow bright, and I can’t help but run towards it, all grows dark but a light brown pillar. The bark scratches the skin, and has a very rough, thick, and sharp texture.The aroma of pine fills the air, and utop the trunk, a gold crest lie among the thick bark. The shape of seven gold stars forming a large one, and of each point, a curved swirl. The silky smooth feeling is attached to the star, with the stench of sweat, and labor. As everything seems to get normal I start to realize something. Eight words fly through my mind, This gold’s boiling point is
5,173 degrees Fahrenheit. I have problems I tell you but for now I have to keep moving on. June 6th,1940 The stars shine to the eye, the river flows to the ear, and the sheep bring to the nose. Up where we are, the snow has started to fall, and triangles of ice start to form under the tent. As General Tyler said, I did win an award, yet I've gotten to realizing strange patterns in the weather. Revolving around that gold star I saw earlier. As the storms move in, the star grows a greyish blue, Yet as ice falls, an aquamarine. As the “golden tree” starts to shine through the window, it once again shows the white light. All goes dark, and the aquamarine star begins to shine its light, a tint of blue shines through my eyes. I could swear I heard slow peaceful music playing. And through that aquamarine star came a gem, and Ima’s voice came from the stone. She was all I had, and is the thought that torments me every moment of every day. I yanked the zipper on the tent, and rushed to the gem. As the light grew brighter, I realized more and more, the gem was surrounded by a case with a melting point of 1670 degrees Fahrenheit. Brass. Everything was so strange, and I can’t recall anything else that happened last night. June 7th, 2013 What has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, three legs in the evening, and no legs at midnight. What is it? Though I don't remember the days ere I had four legs, yet as long as I stand on two legs, I shall stand strong till’ I move to three legs, and as I go to midnight, I shall honor Ima’s midnight, for she was only able to walk at four legs. The sun shines brightly, as the morning mist fires the clouds away.The chilly weather gives me bumps, goosebumps, and they go to the end of days. Today is the day we fight, we invade, we do all we’ve got. Ive been placed on GP #32, and we set the plan in motion. Today is the day, that Russell Smith wins the game. A gun clenched in my fists, sweat pouring down my face though it’s thirty degrees. As I am the shotgun, and I must fire to survive. Could I kill someone? I ask myself inside, My stomach is in my throat and all I can help think about is how to survive. I bolden myself, this gun is nothing compared to what I've been through. My teal eyes, reflect the light, and I must win this for Ima. As we reach the final destination, French armies gather around the base, Japan has taken majorities of Western Europe, and I will fire like a
madman. In the glistening water from the lake, I realize a face, A man, middle aged, and mouthing something. “Help Me!” Words come from the water, I cannot help but think what just happened. As nobody has fired a shot, but the French general stands in front of the men, shaking the hands of others, we just invaded a ranking ceremony. The only way to get in to Germany is to attack the French, sad to say it but, we just abandoned a group member. France had been taken over, yet this battle is a last resort come true. With no one having shot, I aim at the plane next to him, and the gun is pointed right towards the engine. I close my eyes, and “TYRUNK!” I fire the shot. The plane blows, killing the general and starting the battle. French men race at us, firing bombs, and nuclear gases. The same thing they had gassed the Jews with. Half our armies, firing yet getting shot, we’ll be dead in no time. We flee, and run, taking all we’ve got with us. And all that I thought war was, has ended. June 8th, 1940 Yesterday, came a man in the water, today might bring much else to come. We expect attack every moment of every day, not fearing a single gunshot. I once again sit in the ditch, staring at the starry tree. The gem I reached for the other day, attempts to attach to the tree. Afraid to let go, I do, and a face forms of the gold star. Brown hair comes from the man, and he’s listening to a tune so rowdy, so rural and strange sounding. “I come from the United States, do not be alarmed, for I am here to help.” He explains some sort of space time continuum, and I somehow manage to hold it in. “Would you like the future safe? To where few people will go through Ima’s situation and the future will live?” Spoke the man “Yes, I must, this has been the strangest life and I would do anything to bring the future well.” I responded “That’s the thing”, spoke the man “you must die.” My heart raced back and forth, but if it would bring this to an end, it will be necessary. What I must do is go to where the source of most power and courage comes from. This will be my last stand.
June 9th, 1940 “ I might be a hero to you, but to myself, I’m a run down soldier, and I have to make a stand. A year ago, I lost my four year old daughter Ima.And if this is the only way to stop apocalypse from occurring,
then so be it. This gem connects me to the year of 2020, and if I don’t die here and now, then these worlds will collide. For we must allow separate dimensions to come to our standards! We must allow ourselves to fix our human ways! So as I now throw this gem in the air”, the gem goes flying in the sky, being illuminated by the golden star, “remember the name of Russell Smith. Ere a bomb might hit me any moment now, launching me to the stars, I'm connected to time, and I’m going to save your lives.” Seven bombs come hurtling towards me, and as a spiral through the air, I manage to grab the gem with me. November 6th,2020 My last days are here, the gem grasped in my hand, ere I plug in the gem, the continuum will be closed, and all that remains, that can travel between the dimensions is me. Though I lost both legs, and my life might end now, the gem has been plugged in. For let Ima’s soul Rest In Peace. A sudden sweet voice comes of the gem, and a girl is let out. It’s Ima, the look in her eyes soothes me as my midnight comes. Ima grasps my hand and breathes the gem over it. A draining pain lets go of me, and I once again return into the world. My legs are back, my life is back! This is the day I have died, and was born on. This is my day. The future is fancy, my tuxedo has been buttoned and pinned, and a Mahogany bowtie lie among my chest. Ima though, in the gem she aged. She has grown to eleven, and let me tell you, she’s amazing. As she is dressed in a blue gown, I once again walk through that vortex. Ima and I are again on top of the wooden pavilion's stage. “Ladies and gentleman, Ima Smith!” I yell among the crowd. For I may not know much but I know enough to know that my midnight ain't tonight. -Russel Smith