Friday, May 15, 2009

Johnna's Podcast

Surviving a War
Before the revolutionary war Isabella and Isaac were like best friends (although, they were really bother and sister). They lived perfectly fine after their parents died three years ago from influenza. That was until war struck.
Isabella’s best friend, Thomas, was fighting against her older brother. Isaac didn’t act the same as he did before… he acted like… a different person.
“For months and months all I’ve heard is explosions and screaming. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll come home at all. All I can do is hope.” I yelled, because he didn’t understand how I felt, nobody ever knew how I felt. Miserable, hopeless, sad, angry. My brother was trying to kill my best friend, in a bloody battle that should not have even happened. How would he know how I felt? “Why can’t this dumb war end already?”
“Isabella!” Isaac protested, “That’s no way for a young lady to behave!” I didn’t care if I behaved inaccurate, I wanted my brother back. “Now if you please, why don’t
You go buy some more needles and thread and pretend like this isn’t happening.” He stuck out his fist and in it where two shiny gold coins.
I smacked the coins to the ground, with a clicking sound, and looked him in the eye with a sour face on. I thought of a lot of things I wanted to say to him but instead I just pointed out the obvious, “I’m not in the mood.” I mumbled, “but I would be if you dropped out of this dumb war!” And if you would be your normal self again.
He looked at me and grabbed his coat at the same time. Then, without saying anything, he walked out the door.
I loved my brother but sometimes, he could be so, just not himself. He and Thomas used to be the best of friend. Now, they’re archenemies. They don’t get along; they won’t even try, not even for me. Sometimes I absolutely hate him.
When my brother left I got out the book I was reading and tried to relax. Everything that was on my mind distracted me, so I lost where I was. I tried to find where I had last read, but it as useless, I wasn’t ever going to find where I had been. So, I closed the book, lied down and, despite my head ach, fell asleep instantly.
* * * *
When I woke up the shelter over my head was gone, instead there was a thick cloud of smoke. Then on my roof of smoke I saw a bright flash of orange, and another, and another, followed by three thunderous cracks. I sat up and found I was in the middle of a battlefield. All the screaming and gunpowder gave me a headache.
Then out of the corner of my eye I saw Isaac and directly in front of him was Thomas. “NO!” I yelled, but in was to late. Thomas’s gasping--although very loud--drowned out all the other cries for help. “NO!” I yelled again. It was like I wasn’t there at all, because nobody cared that a lady was on the field.
I ran toward Thomas and laid my head on his chest, then started crying. “No, no, no.” I mumbled between sobs. Why would Isaac do something like that? Why?
Somehow Thomas felt me on top of him. “Isabel-l-l-l” he stumbled to say my name, but finally quit and just laid there cold and hopeless. He felt like a rock underneath me, no pulse, no warmth, no breathing, just a dead rock.
* * * *
“Isabella… Isabella? Are you there? Isabella, wake up!”
“Ahhh!” I screamed. My eyes opened it was Thomas. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his--still breathing--body
“What was that about? Are you alright?” he sounded concerned.
“Now I am.” I willingly admitted. And it was--almost--true.
“Well you’ve been screaming for the last hour. I came to see how you were doing. Apparently not very well!” there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Well, I have to go goodbye!”
I didn’t want him to leave, but I also didn’t want to explain the armload of stuff that would follow my words. So instead I nodded and waved back.
The atmosphere of war was killing me, latterly. I got headaches all day and I could hardly breath. Plus the dream I had was eating away at me. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move. The only thing I could do was sit on my wooden chair, and do nothing. Soon I fell asleep, but I didn’t have any dream--or at least I couldn’t see any dream, but there were sounds--this time. Instead it was black, just dark and black. It was scarier than before, because I didn’t know what would happen next.
Then out of nowhere… “Isabella! Isabella!” it sounded like crying wondering who it was I opened my eyes.
“Isabella, were is Thomas at? He’s not home!” Now he was defiantly crying. The salty liquid pored down his cheekbones like a waterfall. I could tell that little ten-year-old Theodore was worried that his brother, his only family, was dead.
Theodore stayed with me until Isaac got home. Then we explained to him what happened. (I knew he didn’t do it willingly but,) We all went looking for Thomas. We looked and looked but could not find him.
Theodore started the waterworks again, but this time no matter what I said he did not stop. I kept telling him that we would find Thomas at all costs. But he didn’t believe me.
“Theodore, stop crying!” I told him again (and again and again). “We will find him I promise. He is not d-“ I cut myself short so that I didn’t give him any ideas.
“What DEAD?!” he screamed at me between sobs. “I know… you know, it’s true”
“Don’t think that way, if you do then it might happen.”
It’s all ready happened.” He protested. I let him free from my hold so that I could go look for Thomas again. I made it very clear that he stay where he was until I got back… or at least I think I did.
We found Thomas almost dead under a tree with two wounds--one on his stomach and one on his arm--both very large and puffy, not completely scabbed over, and they looked infected.
Isaac and I carried him all the way back to the tree stump where Theodore was. (Or was supposed to be.) But he wasn’t there.
Now not only did we have to tend to Thomas’s needs but we also had to find Theodore. Why couldn’t he have just listened to me?
I tended to Thomas’s needs while Isaac went looking for Theodore. I thought I was doing a pretty good job too, because his wounds were getting smaller and less puffy. It had been days scenes Theodore went missing but Isaac never stopped looking.
* * * *
One day Isaac came home at twilight with a little body in his arms. There was a large open wound in his right shoulder. Thomas was still out cold thank goodness. If he where to see his brother like this he would be so upset. Then…
“NOOO!!!” I heard Thomas scream, “is he still alive?”
“Yes, but hardly” Isaac replied. He set the boy on the table , and went to the cabnet where the cloth and medicine was. He got out a brand new, bleach white cloth, and some herbs. Then he delt with Theodore’s injuries.
* * * *
in the middle of the night I woke up to the sound of the creaky floor. It was Theodore, he was walking over to Thomas. He got there and curled up in Thomas’s arms, then closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.

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