One-shot Contest, Round 3
Title: Homeland
Author: whitefoxbuns
Rating: PG
Prompt: "lets go love soldier"
Summary: [written in Ji Yong pov, in 2nd person] A little boy meets another like him, and lives changed.
Homeland…
08.
It is beautiful that you finally took a risk to skip school today. ‘Twice a day, too much’ you cursed at the amount of dictatorship the books had over your life. You still loved them though; those tiny, ash tinted sheets whispering stories and letters ghosting over your imagination. They painted sweet scenes of life over hope intertwined in peace and war. Lying on the fresh grown spring grass, you wandered aimlessly jumping from clouds to clouds, smiling happiness toward the sun. A breath of wind shook you playfully and you sigh against it with a weak effort of an eight year old boy. All the kids in the neighborhood laughed at your scrawny legs and hands; teasing your dirt poor face and making horrible rhymes “hooo hoo and haa haa” because you had to help your widow mom. “Take care of all the cows. Your cows…” she said. They mood and munched at the same time-because that is what they do and you just draped one leg over the other, arms tucked softly under your head and mock them back. And of course you still love your cows like you love those books, because they smell like warm summer and wet rain shower when you hug them each and every day.
00.
The habit of skipping school finally caught up to you. You hung on to its sleeves when it persuaded you to take left instead of right; and you willingly skip your way to the little pond you love to throw rocks in. When your mom found out, she hasn’t spanked you yet…you oh so cry and beg your little heart out. You wiped the wet, milky tears with your dirt stained hands and your stubby fingers could do no pace… “Oh mother, I didn’t mean to.” And you repeatedly chant until the sound of giggles ringing in your ears, made you sniffed (wipe them snot away) and look for the owner. There you found, behind the bamboo tree, peeking back and forth, little puffs of hairs and muffled giggles, another one just like you, watching the from afar.
18.
That memory, like every others, you kept stored in the back of your mind, with an occasional thoughts, smiles, and a tiny hope you will see that little boy again. And when you turn eighteen, that hope came to an end, as you fold away your books and packed away your clothes and turned to bid goodbye to your well aged and beautiful mother, who had wept helplessly when she knew where her son is heading to. “I’ll be fine mom. I’ll write, promise.” And you chanted just like that same day you cried from fear of being beaten. You hugged your mother thin form and raced to catch up with the fellows, hollering whistles with the farewell wind. You glanced back once again. The bamboo tree is still lonely.
00.
With the troop you became one. You learned endurance and pain. You learned hardship and strength. You tell your mom, that the scars you got are healing and well. And that you missed her and your cows. And as the pen ran out of ink, you ran out of words, folding neatly to be sent away. You strolled down the unfamiliar path, seeing familiar faces lightened up your dreaded heart. And the beats intensified when you caught each echo of the same laughter you missed. You recognized the same black locks now stuffed behind the ears, revealing the same cheery eyes like that day, and belonged to the same giggling boy you remembered. He smiles at you and your heart smiles back.
20.
In the midst of the moment, with members of your troops rushing from orders, the sounds of boots drenching and stomping on the mud, you caught yourself turning back for a glimpse of your past. He passed by you, you passed by him, it’s raining but you are warm inside.
00.
You’re to send home for a break. Two years, five months, and umpteenth days, you longed for your mother’s scent; the floppy pond and the wild green grass. You yearned for the shy look, peeking out behind the bamboo just like that old day. The little boy, you realized, learned to be a spy. You grinned to yourself thinking he was too young to help out. “Have you found someone?” you asked, heart throbbing just in case. He replied, voiced mix sweet with giggles; sadness lingers in his eyes. “It’s still difficult to say…” You held his hand in yours. His trembling and you are holding on.
21.
Just like that and time flew by. And you are gone again, returning back with orders. You rushed back into things with routine. Today, mails arrived. The long wait for his news is now over. You hurried for the letter, stained in dirt and rain. Tearing with numb fingers you take in the words.
………No…………You can’t believe it. No!
Letters in truth screamed out at you draining your blood.
He is dead!
Words echoed loudly in your head. They killed him and trashed his body…all because he was a spy…
Pain tearing up inside…killing half of you.
00.
You once remember… loving home for all its beauty and life; for the memory of your childhood, for being beaten by your mother. Now…you love it…for the pieces of flesh and bone of that little boy in your heart.
Author: whitefoxbuns
Rating: PG
Prompt: "lets go love soldier"
Summary: [written in Ji Yong pov, in 2nd person] A little boy meets another like him, and lives changed.
Homeland…
08.
It is beautiful that you finally took a risk to skip school today. ‘Twice a day, too much’ you cursed at the amount of dictatorship the books had over your life. You still loved them though; those tiny, ash tinted sheets whispering stories and letters ghosting over your imagination. They painted sweet scenes of life over hope intertwined in peace and war. Lying on the fresh grown spring grass, you wandered aimlessly jumping from clouds to clouds, smiling happiness toward the sun. A breath of wind shook you playfully and you sigh against it with a weak effort of an eight year old boy. All the kids in the neighborhood laughed at your scrawny legs and hands; teasing your dirt poor face and making horrible rhymes “hooo hoo and haa haa” because you had to help your widow mom. “Take care of all the cows. Your cows…” she said. They mood and munched at the same time-because that is what they do and you just draped one leg over the other, arms tucked softly under your head and mock them back. And of course you still love your cows like you love those books, because they smell like warm summer and wet rain shower when you hug them each and every day.
00.
The habit of skipping school finally caught up to you. You hung on to its sleeves when it persuaded you to take left instead of right; and you willingly skip your way to the little pond you love to throw rocks in. When your mom found out, she hasn’t spanked you yet…you oh so cry and beg your little heart out. You wiped the wet, milky tears with your dirt stained hands and your stubby fingers could do no pace… “Oh mother, I didn’t mean to.” And you repeatedly chant until the sound of giggles ringing in your ears, made you sniffed (wipe them snot away) and look for the owner. There you found, behind the bamboo tree, peeking back and forth, little puffs of hairs and muffled giggles, another one just like you, watching the from afar.
18.
That memory, like every others, you kept stored in the back of your mind, with an occasional thoughts, smiles, and a tiny hope you will see that little boy again. And when you turn eighteen, that hope came to an end, as you fold away your books and packed away your clothes and turned to bid goodbye to your well aged and beautiful mother, who had wept helplessly when she knew where her son is heading to. “I’ll be fine mom. I’ll write, promise.” And you chanted just like that same day you cried from fear of being beaten. You hugged your mother thin form and raced to catch up with the fellows, hollering whistles with the farewell wind. You glanced back once again. The bamboo tree is still lonely.
00.
With the troop you became one. You learned endurance and pain. You learned hardship and strength. You tell your mom, that the scars you got are healing and well. And that you missed her and your cows. And as the pen ran out of ink, you ran out of words, folding neatly to be sent away. You strolled down the unfamiliar path, seeing familiar faces lightened up your dreaded heart. And the beats intensified when you caught each echo of the same laughter you missed. You recognized the same black locks now stuffed behind the ears, revealing the same cheery eyes like that day, and belonged to the same giggling boy you remembered. He smiles at you and your heart smiles back.
20.
In the midst of the moment, with members of your troops rushing from orders, the sounds of boots drenching and stomping on the mud, you caught yourself turning back for a glimpse of your past. He passed by you, you passed by him, it’s raining but you are warm inside.
00.
You’re to send home for a break. Two years, five months, and umpteenth days, you longed for your mother’s scent; the floppy pond and the wild green grass. You yearned for the shy look, peeking out behind the bamboo just like that old day. The little boy, you realized, learned to be a spy. You grinned to yourself thinking he was too young to help out. “Have you found someone?” you asked, heart throbbing just in case. He replied, voiced mix sweet with giggles; sadness lingers in his eyes. “It’s still difficult to say…” You held his hand in yours. His trembling and you are holding on.
21.
Just like that and time flew by. And you are gone again, returning back with orders. You rushed back into things with routine. Today, mails arrived. The long wait for his news is now over. You hurried for the letter, stained in dirt and rain. Tearing with numb fingers you take in the words.
………No…………You can’t believe it. No!
Letters in truth screamed out at you draining your blood.
He is dead!
Words echoed loudly in your head. They killed him and trashed his body…all because he was a spy…
Pain tearing up inside…killing half of you.
00.
You once remember… loving home for all its beauty and life; for the memory of your childhood, for being beaten by your mother. Now…you love it…for the pieces of flesh and bone of that little boy in your heart.