(This article is purely a work of fiction and has no resemblance to any person living or dead)
The day was dark, a bit cloudy. Strong winds were blowing through the window right onto my face. It seemed as if it would have rained that day.I was hoping it would. The day was 30th of April, year 1945.The clock showed 9'o clock. Mumma and Rozy were still in bed. I got up early that day or more precisely didn’t sleep the whole night. Desperation, anxiety, fear, resentment raised many questions in my mind, questions, whose answers I was about to find that very day.
I ate a small piece of leftover cake from the fridge, took few sips of cold milk, but threw it out, due to anxiety I guess.
Time was passing rapidly. I knew I had to leave before Mumma woke up. I took, the yellow envelope, out of the closet, wore my jacket and left. Robert, my dog was barking at me. They say animals can sense your conscience. That day I thought, he did. I smiled at him and left for my destination. Those days, it wasn’t easy for civilians to freely roam on the streets without any valid reason. The air was serious with World war 2 going on along with the Nazi terror. The street was lonely, except a few Nazi soldiers smoking cigars near an army jeep. I knew one of them, Francais Mirova. He was our neighbour. Seeing me, he gave me a stubborn smile like all other armymen. Even i tried to react but failed. By the time I reached my destination it had started drizzling.
I saw the huge Nazi flag at the wooden gate. I entered inside. There were a few army personnel around but too drunk to notice me. This was a good sign."Ignorance can sometimes prove fatal". It did. I sneaked inside a private bunker. My target was sitting on a chair with his back towards me. He was reading a book. I went behind him, took out the yellow envelope. It contained a pistol. I shot him. I shot the man. His blood...all over my face and hands. He fell right on the ground. The book he was reading was his 'autobiography'.
It was named 'Mein Kamph'....
I took my Pappy's revenge. He was a Nazi general, who was murdered by 'that man', for a minor mistake. I did the same, punished him for his mistake. I was 15 at that time. Many years have passed now. Even today people believe that 'his death' was a suicide. Huh, but today, lying on my death bed, I confess that I murdered 'him' for which I have no regrets....
-Kaustubh Labhe Second Year EXTC
The day was dark, a bit cloudy. Strong winds were blowing through the window right onto my face. It seemed as if it would have rained that day.I was hoping it would. The day was 30th of April, year 1945.The clock showed 9'o clock. Mumma and Rozy were still in bed. I got up early that day or more precisely didn’t sleep the whole night. Desperation, anxiety, fear, resentment raised many questions in my mind, questions, whose answers I was about to find that very day.
I ate a small piece of leftover cake from the fridge, took few sips of cold milk, but threw it out, due to anxiety I guess.
Time was passing rapidly. I knew I had to leave before Mumma woke up. I took, the yellow envelope, out of the closet, wore my jacket and left. Robert, my dog was barking at me. They say animals can sense your conscience. That day I thought, he did. I smiled at him and left for my destination. Those days, it wasn’t easy for civilians to freely roam on the streets without any valid reason. The air was serious with World war 2 going on along with the Nazi terror. The street was lonely, except a few Nazi soldiers smoking cigars near an army jeep. I knew one of them, Francais Mirova. He was our neighbour. Seeing me, he gave me a stubborn smile like all other armymen. Even i tried to react but failed. By the time I reached my destination it had started drizzling.
I saw the huge Nazi flag at the wooden gate. I entered inside. There were a few army personnel around but too drunk to notice me. This was a good sign."Ignorance can sometimes prove fatal". It did. I sneaked inside a private bunker. My target was sitting on a chair with his back towards me. He was reading a book. I went behind him, took out the yellow envelope. It contained a pistol. I shot him. I shot the man. His blood...all over my face and hands. He fell right on the ground. The book he was reading was his 'autobiography'.
It was named 'Mein Kamph'....
I took my Pappy's revenge. He was a Nazi general, who was murdered by 'that man', for a minor mistake. I did the same, punished him for his mistake. I was 15 at that time. Many years have passed now. Even today people believe that 'his death' was a suicide. Huh, but today, lying on my death bed, I confess that I murdered 'him' for which I have no regrets....
-Kaustubh Labhe Second Year EXTC
4 comments:
Intersting article. Enjoyed reading it:)
nice effort
nice effort
nice take...dint expect it to go this way.... creative.
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