Fiction: Group 4
not remove the reason for us to fight, the fuel. They just put the fire out. And all you needed to start the
fire again was a spark.
A familiar scream, one of the many that became the soundtrack of the day, as a guard took another child for
a session of public torture. The guard secured the child on a chair, preparing to perform the act of nail
removal.
The guard reached towards his tool belt for his weapon of torture. He hands grasped air. He gasped in
surprise as a knife appeared at the edge of his throat.
“Do anything I didn’t ask you to, you’re dead meat.” I whispered into his ear. Shouts came from the other
guards as they realised what happened. They leveled their guns at my face but none dared to take the shot.
“Put that knife down or I’ll shoot you to kingdom come, young man.” One of the guard said.
“If you want.” I increased the pressure of the blade to the guard’s neck. A trickle of blood flowed down the
front of his neck.
The distraught expression on the guard’s face as he shook his head, not wanting his colleagues to take the
risk.
Ignoring the amount of guns aimed at me, I turned to face the large number of children, all in awe and
disbelief to what I was doing.
“You weak, stupid, pitiful, dishonourable bunch of spoilt brats!”
Anger and confusion started to replace disbelief on some faces, uncertain of the sudden hatred I had for
them.
“What? Are you unable to fight for yourself once your mothers are gone? What an arse you have made of
yourself once they didn’t show up to help you.”
Some children looked like they might start charge at me and slice me into little pieces. How could I dare to
speak to them like that?
“Are you really going to allow these fools to govern over you for the rest of your life? Erasing the dreams
you once had for your future?” I gestured to the guards around them.
Their attention slowly shifted. They glanced around the tunnel, looking at the guards in the same way as
how predators assess their prey. A few guards threatened me again, sensing the sudden change in
atmosphere.
“Look at what they have done to you for the past few months. Look at how they treat you. Do you even
feel human? Do you have no honour? Do you have nothing to fight for?!”
My words echoed again and again through the tunnel. It sounded like a chorus of people repeating my
words.
“It all starts when you learn to say ‘no’. When you learn to face death with no fear, to face a gun barrel
without flinching, when you fight like you have nothing to lose!”
Hence came the spark.
At the end of my sentence everyone gave off a battle cry so deafening that it sounded like the voice of hell.
