Going Home- Creative Writing

It was a frosty night. The ground was soft, but dry. The sun had

almost set, and thick grey clouds moved slowly and silently through

the sky. The air smelt damp, the only sound anyone could have heard

was their own breathing, and the occasional chirping of a bird above.

The air was cool, a soft wind blew through the trees and Corporal

Brown shuddered, though not with discomfort and coolness, but with

terror and anxiety for the forthcoming events. As the slight whistle

from the wind sounded in her ears, she lowered herself down, as low as

she could get, into the soft muddy earth amongst the bushes.

It had only been twenty minutes since she was first given her post on

century duty, but already the young corporal was fed up. This was not

her idea of how to spend her Saturday nights. She should be lying in

bed watching a film, or out clubbing with her friends, looking for new

talent! Yet Sarah still didn’t regret signing up for the RAF, it was

only her forth week of Officer training, she still had another two to

go, and she was determined to stick it out to show the males that

females could do just as well as them, without the make up too!

Sarah Browns stomach had butterflies in. She knew what was coming; she

knew that it was almost time to put her last week of training into

practice. She tightened her grip on her rifle and waited. Would she

remember what she’d been taught? Would she be ready? Would she die?

Questions with no definite answers raced through her head. This was

it. Within the next three hours she would have he answers, this whole

nightmare would be over.

The night was growing darker, the wind was getting stronger. The whole

atmosphere was cooler. The corporal shivered, She breathed heavily,

but as quietly as she could. Then she stopped. She held her breath.

Had she given herself away? Someone was coming…

The trees behind her rustled ever so slightly.