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Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

A Glimpse of Death

By Will Rouget, year 8, Elizabeth College

I slept badly that night. I could hear the gunshots from my house, miles away from the centre of combat. But it's still too close. Snipers camp on the hills, just north of our house. I’ve seen them. In their ghillie suits, rifles slung over their shoulders, scanning the land with their binoculars to gain intel. Then hours later, we hear the first shots. I can tell which side takes the first shot from the sound of the gun. Last night it was a M416, a rifle commonly used by the counter-terrorist forces. Don’t ask me why I know all this stuff. I just do.
Yesterday as I was heading to the city’s main water source (the pipes had been bombed, so we must use a well), I encountered two counter terrorist soldiers. They asked me where I was headed, and I truthfully replied. They kindly escorted me to the well, and as we walked they talked to me about the current war status. The soldiers were unusually on the back foot. I was surprised by this, as they had hundreds more men and better gear.
Suddenly, the two men seized me and put a bag over my head. They dragged me by my neck to what seemed like the downstairs of a shop. That’s if I knew the way around my home city. They sat me down in an uncomfortable chair and hit me hard with a gun handle in the temple. I was dazed, but not unconscious like they’d hoped. I heard them talk in a foreign language, and I think it was about their plans to kill me.
Then without warning, a crash, shouting and gunshots. That was the last thing I heard before a deadly silence. Then I got picked up and carried from the room.

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