"Go! Go! Go!" We pushed forward, trudging through the thick sticky mud and holding globs of the stuff in our fists. "Get down!" We flattened ourselves to the ground as mud balls flew at us from the enemy lines. The warning had come to late. As I army crawled through the mud, dodging the sticky mud bombs coming at me from every direction, I saw one, two of our men fall to the ground as the mud struck them with enough force to pin them to the ground. At this rate, we had no hope of winning this war. A few of us were up on our feet now, running but I tripped, falling face first in the muddy pit before me. When I looked up, the face of one of our enemies loomed over me.
"It's over. Say goodbye, Solider." I lay there, helpless as cool, dark mud began to cover my body and all I could think of was what my mom would think of all this mud when I got home. IF I got home.
I have a passion for art and an overactive imagination.
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