Never Surrender

1308 Words3 Pages

It’s been three months since they took me. Three months in this hole in the ground. Tonight, sleep seems to elude me. These rock walls seem to be the only friends I have here. The other prisoners have each other, but I am an outcast. I wonder what it’s like back in America. I used to hate the sound of the midnight trains passing by my house; now it’s what I long for. I pull the silver cross necklace out of the brown shirt I had been given to replace my army jacket and flipped it over and over as I stared at the ceiling. The little cross seemed to give off a little light in the darkness, and I closed my hand around it and tucked it back in my shirt. “Why me?” I asked no one. “Out of everyone that it could have been, it had to be me.” I whispered into the darkness.
The next morning, I was awoken by a gunshot being fired two rooms over. This was the usual wake up call, but it made me sick every time I heard it. The man over the prisoners had taken a liking to firing his gun whenever he felt the urge. Usually the bullet was fired harmlessly into a sandbag, like this morning, but if he was in a particularly bad mood the bullet might find its mark in someone’s arm. The other men and I scrambled to put on our yarn hat and gloves as we were pushed out into the sun. Before my eyes could adjust, I was shoved to the ground by a guard. He yelled in some other language, but I understood that he wanted me to move. We were herded into a mine, just like every other day, and descended into darkness. The caverns were dimly lit and the air smelled as bad as it was to breathe. No one talked, and everyone grabbed a pickaxe. The only noise was the deafening clanging of iron against rock and dirt. We seldom found any ge...

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...urious eyes that still contained so many dreams. “That gun would not work.” I took off my cross necklace and held it out to him. As his hand closed around it, I quietly told him, “I didn’t.” That night was remembered by many as the night they could forget about the pain and poverty, but to one boy, one that barely spoke English and that because had the guts to speak to an outcast, it was a night that he met a God that can see you through all the hardship and pain. God had also heard my prayers of loneliness that I had prayed almost every night in anger that I was here. As I leaned my head back against the wall, after the dances and songs had long ended and the boy had fallen asleep on my shoulder, I looked up at the stone ceiling. I simply nodded in understanding of my situation and closed my eyes. I slept peacefully.

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