Here's a short story I wrote for English class last week.

I’ve Been There
By Bernard Farquharson

I know what hell is. I’ve been there. Hell is war. Going to war is hell because no one comes back alive. No one. The excruciating pain, the sudden death, the pitiful, unheeded cries from brave, grown men. No one can come back from that abyss and be truly alive. They are dead. I am dead.
It’s funny. But not funny haha. It’s more wrong. It’s wrong that every teenager on my street wanted to go to war. They want to serve their country and be like Gordon Higgs down the block who valiantly raided a Japanese camp, killed ten Japs and found his way home to a brass medal of honor.
I was much too young to join but I wouldn’t be swayed. I put on a fake mustache and they took me in with open arms. Wishing me the best of luck. I was so excited that night. Ecstatic and eager to condemn myself to death. Ma and Pa tried to stop me but I didn’t care. I sneaked out late at night and hopped on the war wagon.
Ouch. It hurts. Lying here in the dark light of sundown, the growls and bellows of cannons and guns rock the ground beneath me. Me. Lying here in a pool of my on blood. A thirteen-year-old boy. What am I doing here? I force my mouth open or at least I think I do. No sound escapes. Where is all this blood coming from? Does it matter? They think I’m dead. They can’t hear me. I can’t hear me. I let my eyes shut. I’ve witnessed enough. Young men shot down in their prime. Mounds of bodies being used for cover. I open my eyes.
A soldier stops to rest two feet away. His eyes find my almost lifeless gaze. He takes in my fair boyish face, my flyaway brown hair Ma was so proud of, matted with blood. He sighs. “Such a waste.” I blink. He gasps. Reaches for me.
A splutter of fire. My savior falls. His lifeless eyes held any hope I had left in me. Crushed it. My tears finally flowed freely and mixed with the blood.
I wish it would end. I wish a stray bullet would just catch me. Release me. I miss my home. My fortress. My people. I wish I’d never left. I wish I had known. Why do they lie to us? No one would want this. I don’t want this. I wish I would die. I want to die. Goodbye Ma, Pa. Good-.
A flash.
Silence.
Peace.

HaiKHOO #1

Here's a poem I just wrote for English class this week. If it rings a bell, that's because it was inspired by a short story that Amir wrote in The Kiterunner by Khaled Hosseini.

I have written haikus before but this is my first HaiKHOO.

Cup of Pearls
By Bernard Farquharson

There once was a man from Nur
Who was sadly just utterly poor,
'til one day he found
A cup on the ground
And went to the market next door.

When he took his new cup to the front
A man checked it and then gave a grunt
He quickly stood up
And said “Sir, this cup
Is worth less than a legless man’s punt.”

Walking home he felt very ashamed
And thought, “Well, who else can be blamed?”
Laid the cup on the peat
And wept in defeat
Then looked down and jumped up and exclaimed!

“What’s this in my cup that I see?
Like a sun at its highest degree.
It looks like a pearl
But then how in the world?
It is not, it should not, could it be?

And he wept again, this time with joy
Dancing ‘round his house like a young boy
So he danced and he cried
Until soon the tears dried
And he smiled at his favorite new toy.

Instead of a gem served with tears
He had pearls to last all of his years
So he cried a bit more
And went shopping galore
With his heart set on buying out Sears

He married a beautiful honey
Not the least of all ‘cause of his money
Kissed her parents “Adieu!”
To his mansion they flew
And the future looked bright fair and sunny.

But soon, thousands just weren’t enough,
And then millions were not up to snuff
He turned into a miser
His wife none the wiser
Then one day his eyes grew hard and tough.

The man however couldn't understand
Why his tear ducts couldn’t meet with his demand
They stopped working altogether
Which put him in stormy weather
So he shut himself inside his room and planned

And finally, overcome by lust and greed
He committed a most dastardly deed.
He took a chopping knife
And sliced the head right off his wife
Thinking grief would be exactly what he’d need.

Sure enough he started to cry
Made a pile of pearls seven feet high
Soon they filled up the whole room
Sealed his fate and sealed his doom,
And he drowned in the pearls; yes he died.

The moral I will now reveal
Is to never want more than is real
But one thing I don’t see
Is to cry why didn’t he
Cut an onion and then sniff the peel?

I just had a thought. It is almost Halloween and i have absolutely no ideas on what to be.
I'm fourteen now and it's hard to find a good costume. Something scary and cool.
Any ideas? Here's my favorite so far