I was sitting at the airport terminal waiting for my flight. We all boarded the plane, took off and everything seemed to be normal. It was a normal flight on a normal day. Soon enough the air mask come falling down, and a huge bump of turbulence. A giant gasp of fear struck the airplane. People panicked, they did not know what was going on. Families hugged each other, people started praying. I had no clue what was going on until the pilot came on the intercom, “Brace for impact!” The airplane took a dive like it was going on a slide. Eventually, the plane scrapped the ground and slid for what felt like miles. People were injured some more than others. As we all quickly evacuated the plane I tried to get the most people out I could. I looked up into the sky to see enemy planes above. Right then I knew we were at war.
“Where were you heading Grandpa?”
“I was moving across the Atlantic to be with my fiancé, but my flight never got there.”
I tried and tried to find a way to get to her, but with the war no one could get in or out. Endlessly hoping one new way would work, but it always came up short. I kept in touch with my fiancé, she started to panic I always made sure she was calm. Being scared was the last thing we needed. I told her I will be there before she knows it. As soon as things seem to be just to wait it out, bad news came. Word came out about my heroic actions on the plane. A general showed up at my door telling me that I have been selected for service. I had to serve for at least four years or as long as the war lasted. My fiancé soon became more stressed. It was hard to stay in contact overseas with training and the war. My time came when I finally had to go in war.
When I was serving I made the biggest mistake of my life. My job in my group was to keep lookout a couple miles from one of our small bases. To see if anyone is near by. One night I was exhausted from the heat. I fell asleep in the middle of the night. I woke up dizzy, feeling terrible. My hands were tied behind my back, there was tape over my mouth, and a bag over my head. I was a prisoner, the army classified me as a person of war, but I did not know it yet. “What is a person of war grandpa?”
“I was missing, they presumed me dead.” I was held captive for three and a half years. For years I was beaten, barely fed, was not allowed to bathe, was kept in a dark room, barely saw sunlight. I kept pushing through knowing someone would save me or I’ll have to save myself. Picturing the day I could see my fiancé motivated me through the days. One day I was playing with the lock on the door. I noticed it was a little loose. I started to kick, punch, and shoulder the door. I kicked it open. Seeing sunlight for the first time in three and a half years was a little blinding. I had escaped, I was now in woods, running for what was my life. One night I was hidden in a tree and I hear a tank, soldiers coming my way. I did my best to camouflage myself, but it wasn’t good enough. As the soldiers saw me. Forcing me to come down and surrender myself. I could not go another day in that room. All the struggle I went through was not worth it. I refused to go down. They started to shoot. They shot down the branch and I feel forty feet to the ground. I laid down and put my hand up and begged not to shoot. I closed my eyes in what I thought would be the end of my life.
“Oliver?”
“Harry?”
“I thought you were dead?”
I open my eyes and see my childhood best friend in an army uniform pointing the gun at me. A sense of relief broke out as I was finally going to be saved. Tears broke out as he hugged me. He thought I was dead for the past 3 years. They took be back to camp. I was relieved from my duty. I was finally allowed to go back home. I quickly packed all my things and went to move across the Atlantic like I had always planned. I boarded that flight the happiest man alive.
After the flight, I took off I got a car and headed to where my fiancé said she had been living. I rang the doorbell. It wasn’t her who answered. It was some random lady, I told her I was the fiancé of the previous owner. The kind lady told me where she was living now. As I went it was empty. I asked a neighbor if she had gone out. They told me she was at a church not far from here. I darted in my car to the church. I stormed in looking for my love. Only to see her, in a beautiful white dress standing next to a man in a black suit. Her family turned their heads. Mortal shock struck that church. As she turned I saw the biggest stunned face I’ve ever seen. Tears started to slide down my cheeks as I saw the love of my life marrying another man. She too had thought I was dead 4 years ago. I looked at her one last time, before I turned and walked out of the church heartbroken.
“But grandpa where is the happy ending.”
“There aren’t always happy endings in life Lily. Sometimes bad things happen and you have to learn to accept it.”
“At least tell me her name!”
“Her name was Israel.”
Connection: We talked about what I happening in Israel right now and I do not know much about the political side of what is happening. I know from friends that other friends, and family are trapped inside the country and cannot leave and some are being held captive. So I wrote a short sad love story of how a man was trapped inside his country. It is also sad because many people are losing their lives in Israel. It is wrong to be at war, but war happens and bad things come from it.
