Imagine your city has been invaded by a foreign country. Write 4 diary entries for the four days following the invasion.
December 2nd, 2010
It’s still all a blur to me; I can’t seem to come to grips with it, is this really happening? The sky’s black as if to resemble the darkness that has taken over the country I reside in, the people that have caused it to happen are vicious, aggressive, poisonous in the sense they spread their venom of terror throughout the city. At first when they came to take over city, I was already outside like any other day just minding my business and playing some football. They simply swept over the city; people ran in all directions, it looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, all too surreal, dream-like, and unrealistic. Kids screeching cries echoed all over the city, mothers to be unseen; it was an ‘everyone for themselves’ scenario. It was disgusting. Fear gripped my heart as it did with everyone, I consider myself lucky for even making it through these few hours. Whoever was caught was taken away; locked in similar grey looking vans that were packed completely. Explosions can be heard all around me and as I sit hidden with all the teams in the locker rooms, I can’t help but wonder what could’ve possibly happened to everyone that I ever cared about?
December 3rd, 2010
Friends, family; their faces flash by in my mind; they are all I worry about. There’s a constant thudding that I can feel coming from the ceiling as I sit stuck here in this damp underground locker room. Chaos doesn’t even describe the situation. Here we’re safe as far as I know that is, but as the clock ticks throughout the day the players become more insane. Their worries ravish their mind as it does the same to mine. We constantly try to call anyone for a soothing voice to be heard but are answered by the phones drilling monotonous beep. Electricity is cut, no light or water and we survive on flashlights but no one wants to take the risk of it running out of battery so we’re in the dark most of the time. It’s maddening, traumatizing and that hideous thudding haunts my very soul. The radio crackles, only a few times news is to be heard though it lasts only for a few seconds. We’ve heard the news that half the city has been taken over and they are only a few miles away from our stadium, some hear the dreadful news that the area they live in with their families has been captured. What next?
December 4th, 2010
Footsteps; we were woken up by footsteps. Those who were able to sleep anyways, others as myself were sleep deprived either way we were all hazed. The door was smashed open; light pierced our eyes as the morning sunshine poured in with the machine-like soldiers who pulled and pushed and dragged everyone out with a loathful smile on their faces, as if they were rewarded by our pain. They separated us, separated me from the people whom I felt a few grains of comfort with over these two days. I was taken into the same grey, metallic looking van and violently pushed inside to be met by random miserable faces. I was hardly able to tell one soldier from another, their faces were covered with dirt yet still I can and will never forget my enemy’s face. Cruel? It was far beyond it. After hours on a bumpy road, we were gathered and placed into different ranks according to our physical strength to do their labor work. Families were shred apart and intentionally placed into different areas to be never seen together again. We are at the mines, serving the monstrous foreign country with coal against our will. After hours of constant working, blisters form on my hands and feet, my body aches and is covered in filth and now I lay on my bed. The hard, cold ground envelopes me and I think to myself, it can’t get any worse, can it?
December 5th, 2010
This time we’re woken up by a kick at our chests the can almost crack any ones ribs and are forced back to work. Pitch black and the ash got into our lungs but I really couldn’t complain as long as I got to live. Even more blisters form now, and with every action I take my body yearns for a rest, begging for it. I was told by another worker that he was told that we weren’t the only ones. The foreigners had multiple little mining camps spread around and gathered people to it. According to him, our soldiers are almost done for; we were unguarded sheep as the foreigners were hungry wolves. I wonder if there’s any hope left. By nightfall, fifteen people are said to have died from exhaustion, and I myself feel that I will likely follow their footsteps soon. My throat is raspy, and I spend most of my time day dreaming about water clenching my thirst. Some people have gone mental, others are more or less sane enough to carry out tomorrows work, but I hear work will not only last for tomorrow but for many days to come as our city has fallen and our hopes fell with it…