The Bushman Monologue
Father. The only person who had been there for me. Has shaped me into the man I am today and without him, I would be nothing. Now he’s gone, I am nothing. Consumed with darkness and hatred, which has ignited my anger towards the men who poisoned my father or as the devils call him ‘King Willie.’
As I walked through the forest, I reminisced about how father and I would look for the best trees for the mill workers. Tears start gushing down my face like a waterfall. I clenched my teeth and started running. I ran like there was no tomorrow until I was gasping for air. This was when I gasped in a foul stench that raced through my nostrils and exploded in my punctured heart. ‘Boom!’. It was the grog. The alcoholic drink that was made with rotten potatoes. It was this that the Bushmen used to slaughter my father. I quickly dropped to the dirt-covered ground, feeling the twigs and sticks, which felt like needles and pins. I sluggishly crept on the floor until I heard men chuckling. It was the Bushmen, Lively, jubilant and boasting about how they were able to fool my father into drinking their …show more content…
poisonous alcohol. One man cheerfully gloated saying, ‘Finally. With Wille gone, there’s one less filthy monkey on the planet. These bloody aboriginals need to be erased from the earth. Hopefully, we'll be able to get his son someday.’
They all chuckled and eventually scattered away like a flock of birds. I was only one left. I then quietly murmured to myself ‘They shall get what they deserve.’ I glimpsed towards the clear blue sky as fury engulfed my body until I could taste the hard cold bittiness in my mouth. That bitterness was vengeance and I cried,
‘I’m going to kill them.’ My inner Demons spoke in my head and an evil and malicious thought came thorough. I was going to spear Norbush. Jack Norbush. Knowing this I darted back home.
Arriving in my lifeless, dull house, I entered with respect knowing father’s spirit was at rest. Quietly I sat down and crossed my legs. I began whispered to myself and had a conversation with my father,
‘Oh father, I am about to do an immoral, sinful crime. I’m doing it with something that you taught me how to do. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold myself back from doing this act. I’m doing it for you and to me, that’s all that matters to me.’ As I stood up wiping the tears from my gloomy face, the wind howled in the distance. This was when I knew the time was near. I picked myself up and went outside searching for the best tree branch to make my spear. This reminded me on how father and me would do the same. We would search for straight trees that were nearly fallen and had large circumferences. I glimpsed towards quite a large tree that had a branch falling off. I climbed on to the tree, which was stiff as a doorknob and old, as its skin was robust and partially fallen off. Nearing the top of the tree I saw the branch. I hung on to the tree and kicked it. It fell with a loud thud noise. Suddenly men started to gather around and caused a commotion. One man angrily shouted at me, saying
‘Hey stupid kid get down.’ I shouted back ‘ Or what?’ Another man uttered ‘ Oh, just leave him.
If he wants to kill himself he can be my guest. He’s Just going to end up like he’s father. A lonely foul smelling, deadbeat person who drank himself to death.’
With emotional rage and in my voice, I sobbed furiously saying
‘What do you know about him. He was my father and even though he knew he had depression he tried to overcome it so don’t ever speak in his name like that again. He left me with a burden and I promise to complete that.’ They all looked puzzled and confused about what I said, but they laughed it off vanished. Whilst leaving Jack Norbush gave me a devilish smirk that pierced through my heart. He had such animosity in that smirk. At this moment I definitely knew it him who poisoned my father with the grog. Knowing this my anger was as full as the ocean and my heart cold as ice. I began to craft the wooden
spear.
The afternoon went fast and night crept on me. Determined and stubborn, I worked through the cold unsympathetic stormy night, which was felt like sub-zero temperatures as my body was quivering to create warmth. With logic gone, I continued to work in the cruel environment up until the sun woke up. Fatigue and sleep deprived from staying up through the night I went on my search; contemplating whether if I’m still going to do this. As I neared with precaution, I saw him. I saw the devil in clear sight with his back turned making a new batch. With precision and accuracy, I swung back and threw the spear as swift and fast like a bullet. The spear ran out of my hands landed correctly. For a spilt-second, he was immobilised as the spear had pierced through his black heart. His heartless dead body dropped dead to the dirt-covered floor and blood started gushing out of his chest creating a pool of blood around his body. I turned and ran like a savage. Clouds started poring rain and lighting danced across the sky. The thirst of blood and vengeance was quenched but at what cause. This made me realise that society here had abandoned me so I needed a new life and building one here wasn’t possible, so I ultimately decide to leave. And I never returned.
As I walked through the forest, I reminisced about how father and I would look for the best trees for the mill workers. Tears start gushing down my face like a waterfall. I clenched my teeth and started running. I ran like there was no tomorrow until I was gasping for air. This was when I gasped in a foul stench that raced through my nostrils and exploded in my punctured heart. ‘Boom!’. It was the grog. The alcoholic drink that was made with rotten potatoes. It was this that the Bushmen used to slaughter my father. I quickly dropped to the dirt-covered ground, feeling the twigs and sticks, which felt like needles and pins. I sluggishly crept on the floor until I heard men chuckling. It was the Bushmen, Lively, jubilant and boasting about how they were able to fool my father into drinking their …show more content…
poisonous alcohol. One man cheerfully gloated saying, ‘Finally. With Wille gone, there’s one less filthy monkey on the planet. These bloody aboriginals need to be erased from the earth. Hopefully, we'll be able to get his son someday.’
They all chuckled and eventually scattered away like a flock of birds. I was only one left. I then quietly murmured to myself ‘They shall get what they deserve.’ I glimpsed towards the clear blue sky as fury engulfed my body until I could taste the hard cold bittiness in my mouth. That bitterness was vengeance and I cried,
‘I’m going to kill them.’ My inner Demons spoke in my head and an evil and malicious thought came thorough. I was going to spear Norbush. Jack Norbush. Knowing this I darted back home.
Arriving in my lifeless, dull house, I entered with respect knowing father’s spirit was at rest. Quietly I sat down and crossed my legs. I began whispered to myself and had a conversation with my father,
‘Oh father, I am about to do an immoral, sinful crime. I’m doing it with something that you taught me how to do. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold myself back from doing this act. I’m doing it for you and to me, that’s all that matters to me.’ As I stood up wiping the tears from my gloomy face, the wind howled in the distance. This was when I knew the time was near. I picked myself up and went outside searching for the best tree branch to make my spear. This reminded me on how father and me would do the same. We would search for straight trees that were nearly fallen and had large circumferences. I glimpsed towards quite a large tree that had a branch falling off. I climbed on to the tree, which was stiff as a doorknob and old, as its skin was robust and partially fallen off. Nearing the top of the tree I saw the branch. I hung on to the tree and kicked it. It fell with a loud thud noise. Suddenly men started to gather around and caused a commotion. One man angrily shouted at me, saying
‘Hey stupid kid get down.’ I shouted back ‘ Or what?’ Another man uttered ‘ Oh, just leave him.
If he wants to kill himself he can be my guest. He’s Just going to end up like he’s father. A lonely foul smelling, deadbeat person who drank himself to death.’
With emotional rage and in my voice, I sobbed furiously saying
‘What do you know about him. He was my father and even though he knew he had depression he tried to overcome it so don’t ever speak in his name like that again. He left me with a burden and I promise to complete that.’ They all looked puzzled and confused about what I said, but they laughed it off vanished. Whilst leaving Jack Norbush gave me a devilish smirk that pierced through my heart. He had such animosity in that smirk. At this moment I definitely knew it him who poisoned my father with the grog. Knowing this my anger was as full as the ocean and my heart cold as ice. I began to craft the wooden
spear.
The afternoon went fast and night crept on me. Determined and stubborn, I worked through the cold unsympathetic stormy night, which was felt like sub-zero temperatures as my body was quivering to create warmth. With logic gone, I continued to work in the cruel environment up until the sun woke up. Fatigue and sleep deprived from staying up through the night I went on my search; contemplating whether if I’m still going to do this. As I neared with precaution, I saw him. I saw the devil in clear sight with his back turned making a new batch. With precision and accuracy, I swung back and threw the spear as swift and fast like a bullet. The spear ran out of my hands landed correctly. For a spilt-second, he was immobilised as the spear had pierced through his black heart. His heartless dead body dropped dead to the dirt-covered floor and blood started gushing out of his chest creating a pool of blood around his body. I turned and ran like a savage. Clouds started poring rain and lighting danced across the sky. The thirst of blood and vengeance was quenched but at what cause. This made me realise that society here had abandoned me so I needed a new life and building one here wasn’t possible, so I ultimately decide to leave. And I never returned.