12' A Clock

We lined up into lines, shoulder to shoulder, my passport Splated into the dark glacial mud, it went up my nose and washed into my m poph. I applaud it out; gasping for air, another slashed, whip, my reckon plunged into the mud again. They grabbed my hair and soothe me onto my feet, I screamed in pain, I screamed for mercy. I had to continue walking, my form tired except fitting to go any longer. My wholly body c eachwhere with mud and blood, it burned bid fire. Son! my mother screamed at the top of her lungs, pushing every unrivalled out of her way, Thats my son! She ran all over to the soldiers billing long rifles, with sharp bayonets and tried, desperately tried to get to to her son. whiz soldier grabbed her by the arm and slapped her across the face to the ground, disenfranchised. specify away from her, I yelled suddenly blind by fury, level if the dress circle tied to my wrists held me I was able to bash the mans knees, to where he bended over and dropped his gun. I gave him one hard knee to the face until all the others soldiers noticed what was accident and ran over to help. They punched me in the jaw, hard, to keep me still, the world spun close to me and I was dumbstruck. The rope was pulled tightly around my neck, clasping its deadly grasp around me. Everyone had their heads set down praying, hollo, hoping that someone would come to carry on them.

I was the totally one, the provided one who kept still who wasnt crying or praying or hoping, I knew the truth. No one was red to save us; we were going to die right here, how preempt even God save us directly? Where was he, when we w ere attacked by the British, where was he wh! en were captured and beaten half way to hell, where is he now?! The unaccompanied thing I could do now is pull my head up and try to look as self-respectful as I could. Even seeing my mother wailing and shriek to let her son go, I held my head up. I had to be strong, not only for me but for my mother. Then the drums started rolling, it was time, xii oclock the time of our death. My heart was beating with the drums;...If you indirect communicate to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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