Publishing document
The Twisted World
They were coming, Jack stood on his own cowering behind his gun. There was a flash and the spray of bullets started. Jack’s dad ran at the force, his head held high, and his gun flashing as he ran among the ranks of soldiers, silencing the screams and blood curling explosions of the battle. His dad was a captain, decorated for all his accomplishments on duty, he was a very exceptional soldier, and had extreme talent with a gun, but today he would die. The battle was nearly over; Jack still lay there on the ground bleeding, the morphine shot he had taken was coursing through his body, and suddenly he heard a final shot and a cry of agony as someone fell to the ground. Jack looked, his body froze (it wasn’t the morphine) it was his dad, he was down on the ground bleeding and the most horrible sight he had ever seen stood over him; it was armoured heavily with metal plating and a big camouflage jacket, its head was covered with a heavy white helmet that concealed even his face. The big figure raised his gun and pulled the trigger, Jack felt nothing a white light exploded in his head and the world went black.
Jack sat up right in his bunk, he let out the most foul swear he could think of; that dream had bothered him at least once every week and he was getting annoyed. It had been four years ago that that event had happened and he could still remember the happenings as if the thing was a broken video player, repeating itself over and over again. The time was o six hundred hours and the whole military barracks of Texas State was awake, there were men eating, practicing their aim, and still sleeping? Jack sat in his bed, looking at the picture of his dad and him in Cancun, Mexico they had just been diving and laughed as Jack’s mom took a sneak picture of them getting out of their wet suits.

“‘Morning Mum.” Muttered Jack sleepily, his eyes were far away, not in dream land but on that battle field where his father had died. Jack’s Mum’s name was Flora; she was a paramedic for the soldiers of this unit and was also a part time mom to Jack. The time was o 10 hundred hours, and Jack was lazily playing with his eggs, the sticky yolk splattered all over the metal plate he was using. At that moment the Sergeant opened the door of their building, “Flora Mackenzie, and Jack Mackenzie you are requested for immediate paratrooper backup in the present battle field of Yemen.”

Jack was alert and ready to go as his convoy of Hummers rolled toward the airport where an AC-130a gunship waited for them. Jack was surprised, the AC-130a was a fighter plane why use it to parachute into the battlefield? His question was answered as they got closer to the battle field, the plane was a threat that had to be destroyed and so every enemy troop gathered and waited to open fire, they would never suspect that the plane was just there to drop of some troops. Jack dove right out of the plane, he spread his body into a star shape so that he could slow himself down, and then when he was about eight hundred feet off the ground he pulled his parachute cord and felt the sudden jerk of the canopy as it inflated itself and brought Jack down to the ground safely. Jack pulled out his M4 assault rifle, this gun was fairly reliable and a good choice for a 24 year old soldier like him since it was light and efficient; Jack made the basic checks, his armour was tight, his combat knife was sheathed onto a strap on his arm, and his gun had a full clip, all safeties were off.

Jack ran to the battle field, and dove behind a sand bag right before a line of bullets whizzed by him. The remaining soldiers were still fighting, there wasn’t many left but the enemy was hardly a threat anymore, still they needed reinforcements to finally break through their lines and advance into the country to help them fight the terrorists. Jack ran into battle like his father always did, he held his gun in front of his face like a face mask and the gun (he named it fuzzy) broke out with swears in the form of bullets. Jack was on full automatic now; his brain was telling him dodge, stab, fire over and over again. The gun fire died down and finally stopped, all enemy soldiers were gone. Everyone was resting when the sound of more bullet fire came, Jack ran outside of the shelter to see what was going on, and he froze with fear, the shape of the man who had killed his father was walking towards him, the son. But this time Jack was ready, he ran to the nearest turret, took it off safety and began to fire; the bullets zoomed at the figure, each one making its mark but not doing any actual damage. That’s when Jack panicked, he began worrying; the man was getting closer and the turret had barely done any damage to the soldier, Jack franticly shot at the man each bullet hit but did nothing, then Jack heard a sound; a faint clatter and realized it was an active grenade! Jack ran he picked it up and threw it at the advancing man; the grenade blew up right at his feet, but the man continued. Jack felt a rush of adrenaline; his only family member was in that tent, if he cowered again he would lose it all, so Jack rushed forward and was shot at, a bullet lodged itself into his left thigh. Jack ran on dodging the constant fire of the man’s gun, while his own gun spit more bullets at him, but Jack was taking more damage, his thigh was already going numb, but still he ran on until he came so close that he could see the man’s giant body clearly. He knew this was his last chance to kill this man, if he didn’t, he would die and everyone else too. Jack ran at the giant bulk of the man, his knife was like part of his arm and he jumped; the knife lodged into the man’s neck and blood splattered onto Jack’s messy brown hair.

Jack woke up in a very quiet room, it looked like a hospital (which it was) and had a vase of flowers that were coloured bright pink. Jack looked at his reflection in the mirror, it wasn’t pretty; his hair was messed up and his body was covered in blood stained bandages but he was fine other than that. Jack was at the mourning of the fallen soldiers, it was a very quiet time and everyone stood still. The last man of the fallen was very large and Jack recognized immediately, it was the man that he had killed.

“Stop! Leave him here! He is an enemy, he killed my father and your taking him to be buried like a soldier!?” yelled Jack, tears leaking down his face; he didn’t understand why they would bring him in when they didn’t know who he was? Then his mother’s lips moved, Jack heard the sound but put it aside, how could it be?

“He is your father,” that was what his mom said but it wasn’t possible, how could he be his father?

“Your father never died, he was taken prisoner by the enemy and turned into this” Jack’s mother explained, nodding at the figure on the stretcher. As she said this Jack thought about the world and how twisted it had become.