A Soldier Cries, Oh Canada. I'll Die To Keep You Free
An albino stands up from his seat when the speaker asks him to, listening to the many names called out from the roll call list. Nobody responds to those names. With poppies pinned to his coat, and a heavy heart he attends a Remembrance Day ceremony. November 11th is the day when Canadians remember and honour the fallen soldiers of the past and present.
A pair of red eyes are welling up with tears as they read the blurring words of the handout as a famous poem about poppies, crosses and fields is read aloud. He closes his eyes as the trumpet plays 'The Last Post' before the minute of silence.
The young man with white hair and red eyes has tears rushing down his face as he remembers the boy he still loves so dearly. The distant memories of laughter ringing through their house, the smell of pancakes in the morning and the shy but sweet smile that could light up anyone's day if they earned it.
He also remembers the days were life wasn't peaceful at all. The First World War was fast approaching, and Canada had decided to join. The boy knew his beloved was joining the Army, but he knew he would not be able to deter him from joining. He could only give him a reason to come home. He did not come home.
In the years that followed, Gilbert passed away in a coma after a hit-and-run. His killer was never found.
Gilbert was reborn in 1993. He woke up with a new last name, a new mom and a new dad, but retained his memories from his past life, and the feelings for the boy he loves.
(Matthew's POV)
The boy who is dear to me is attending a ceremony for me.
My name is Matthew Williams and I fought in the First World War, and died there. Since then, I tried to look out for the boy I love, even though I am a ghost. Unfortunately, there are some things I could not change. I could not save my beloved. I've drifted aimlessly as time flew past, unable to move on and just waiting for something, anything.
On November 10th 2010, I spotted something peculiar. I was drifting through the neighbourhood that I lived in when I was alive, and I hear a particular sound. It sounded like a snake hissing in glee, but I knew it wasn't that. I followed the sound eagerly, and it led me to an old playground.
"Kesesese…"
"Fusosososo…"
"Honhonhon…"
I stood in plain sight, though I knew no one would be able to see me. There were three boys hanging about on the playground, laughing obnoxiously. One had blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the other had brown hair and green eyes. The last one caught my attention whole heartedly. With bright, gleaming red eyes and white hair it was impossible to not recognize him.
"Gilbert…" I whispered to myself, unable to keep my joy inside. He seemed around seventeen to me, and apparently he was reincarnated.
…How unfair…
After a few moments, they seemed to calm down. The albino teenager looked down at his phone, and his eyes widened. He looked up at his friends, and said something about his parents being mad, before saying goodbye and hopping down from the playground and taking off towards home (probably).
From that moment on, I felt happy. Couples on the streets didn't bother me anymore; they don't bring back memories that I know I can't have back. I became Gilbert's angel, keeping minor things from hurting him and making his life miserable. I settled the arguments that his parents kept having, because when I appear in the room, my aura calms others; and brought peace to his home. Sometimes, I feel like he can hear me when I whisper to him softly.
When he's distraught, I'll be there for him. When he needs comfort, I'll be there for him. When he calls out in his sleep, I'll be there to soothe him.
I'll make sure he never has to go through the agony and panic that comes from being buried alive as shells rain down in the trenches.
Hello there! Thank you for (hopefully) reading this all the way through!
This didn't really turn out the way I had planned, but oh well!
Today I went to a Remembrance Day ceremony, with a poppy pinned to my coat. My mom was telling me how her grandfather fought in both World Wars, and how he almost died while buried alive, but someone dug him out.
This is inspired by my mom's story and the song that they played at the ceremony. The song is called, Soldiers Cry.
The title is part of the lyrics to that song so...
But, yeah! I really wanted to do something like this because not many people seem to realize that, yes, Canadians did fight their share of wars.
So, this is my first story on the internet! Please, it would be wonderful if i could have some reviews, they make me happy ^.^
Constructive criticism is nice, but nothing nasty, kay? I may or may not continue this, so just ask if you want me to.
