Creative Writing: My Hero's Journey
The crumbling leaves swayed, as the winter air crashed against his home. Walking towards his farm, William became uncomfortably aware of his surroundings. He grew up in this town, spending his days working and adventuring in every niche of the area. For an eighteen year old, his journey of life was monotonous. He endeavoured to peregrinate and advance his life- but his next journey was one that caused a nauseous, yet prideful feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Please don’t do this Will, I need you!” she whimpered intemperately.
Situated on the floor cross-legged, a cladded William with a greatcoat and cumbersome boots stared at the tarnished wooden floorboards. Tracing his fingers back and forth along a dented crease, he reminisced about …show more content…
I already lost the love of my life to this vicious war, don’t make me lose you too!”
William watched his forty-year-old mother collapse dramatically upon the patched lounge. Edna was a reputable nurse, who served in Australian hospitals in 1914. Three years had passed since the portentous day she witnessed her husband, Adrian, wither like an autumn leaf; lifeblood ebb from his septic wound. All was abstruse to William- he observed his mother evolve into a feeble being of despondency. The mere mention of war inflated her terror, evolving into screaming and mental …show more content…
Envisioning his scruffy-faced father proudly holding a deadly weapon, mercilessly committing manslaughter for the benefit of liberty- William simpered.
“William, what do I do with the rest of your belongings?”
William shuddered - he knew that if he were to die in battle, his mother would sell the farm for money. She didn’t need his emotional baggage with her. “Throw it all in the fire.”
William owned next-to-nothing; a few pairs of clothes and a diary. “But what if you want them when you come back-” “I don’t want any of it.” William snapped.
Sitting in silence, they watched the grandfather clock tick eerily, mimicking the reverberating beating of William’s heart. The vision of dread on Edna’s face was overwhelming. The thought that William could die- from a scratch, gunshot, disease- after spending five nights, watching her husband suffer in pain. A young, strong male, suffering in the dirt; nothing could be more painful to a mother. William didn’t have a choice, but if he did, he knew he would pridefully follow in his father's
“Please don’t do this Will, I need you!” she whimpered intemperately.
Situated on the floor cross-legged, a cladded William with a greatcoat and cumbersome boots stared at the tarnished wooden floorboards. Tracing his fingers back and forth along a dented crease, he reminisced about …show more content…
I already lost the love of my life to this vicious war, don’t make me lose you too!”
William watched his forty-year-old mother collapse dramatically upon the patched lounge. Edna was a reputable nurse, who served in Australian hospitals in 1914. Three years had passed since the portentous day she witnessed her husband, Adrian, wither like an autumn leaf; lifeblood ebb from his septic wound. All was abstruse to William- he observed his mother evolve into a feeble being of despondency. The mere mention of war inflated her terror, evolving into screaming and mental …show more content…
Envisioning his scruffy-faced father proudly holding a deadly weapon, mercilessly committing manslaughter for the benefit of liberty- William simpered.
“William, what do I do with the rest of your belongings?”
William shuddered - he knew that if he were to die in battle, his mother would sell the farm for money. She didn’t need his emotional baggage with her. “Throw it all in the fire.”
William owned next-to-nothing; a few pairs of clothes and a diary. “But what if you want them when you come back-” “I don’t want any of it.” William snapped.
Sitting in silence, they watched the grandfather clock tick eerily, mimicking the reverberating beating of William’s heart. The vision of dread on Edna’s face was overwhelming. The thought that William could die- from a scratch, gunshot, disease- after spending five nights, watching her husband suffer in pain. A young, strong male, suffering in the dirt; nothing could be more painful to a mother. William didn’t have a choice, but if he did, he knew he would pridefully follow in his father's