A story I wrote for English class. We had to write our own Canterbury Tale, describing five characters aside from a narrator, and one character had to tell a story while the group traveled somewhere. I decided to do mine in poetry form, like the original. The flow is bad in some places, I know. But it's the best I could do.

The snow fell softly to the ground where it lay,
But a village burned not too far away.
The flames pierced the night with an ominous glow –
How we had survived, we did not know.
But we knew we were running, fleeing the scene,
Dirty and cold, but disguised and unseen.
Behind us, shots rang through the thick, bitter air,
And if we were shot, we were too scared to care
For the ones that had fallen face-down in the snow,
Blood on the white like a deadly halo.

I ran behind and brought up the rear –
I had just lost my brother and had nothing to fear.
But the others before me must have felt the same,
For the war we were in was not just a game,
But a fight for our land, our hope, and our pride,
And with the flags on our arms, we had no where to hide
From the soldiers who chased us through the night
And what they had said, which was probably right:
We were intruders who spread through the land,
And who needed to go – sure, we’d understand.

The youngest was Avery, at just sixteen.
There was already too much that he had seen.
His parents were with us, and beside him they ran,
Two bags on their backs and one book in their hand:
It was the book that marked us, the one that we trusted,
The one after which the soldiers all lusted.
The mother was deaf, and the father was too:
They could read books and read lips, and managed to do
Most of the things normal parents did,
From starting a family to raising a kid.

The kid himself could hear just like me,
And he had strong eyes with which he could see
Every danger that came and passed us by,
Like a bird in the air or a well-trained spy.
He was born of a farmer, but preferred not to work,
And instead spent his time drawing in dirt
And teaching the children, who now were all dead –
But they’d had fairy tales stuck in their head.

We ran from our village and kept to the trees
And hoped to reach the coast and head for the Seas:
The Twin Seas that kept us from safety and peace,
That separated the west from those in the east.
If we could get there, we could cross and move on –
But if we did not arrive before dawn,
We would surely be spotted when the sun hit the snow,
And each would be shot and knocked down from the blow.

There was a sound behind us and a man burst through,
Dressed in the soldier’s black, gold, and blue.
“If you have food,” he managed to say,
“I can guide you to an easier way
Out of the woods and out of their sights,
But first you must share with me a few bites.”

At first we were wary and thought he was lying,
But then Avery spoke up and thanked him for trying.
He took his mother’s hand and followed the soldier
To a small cave set into a boulder.

We held our breath and prayed they would go,
But in the soldier’s presence, how would we know?
When the lamplight had gone and our breath settled down,
We asked the soldier if he was from town.
But he paled in the light from the moon outside,
And shivered in his jacket, his eyes open wide
And focused on ours, still begging for food –
When Avery opened a bag, his eyes became glued
To the fruit inside, and what else we had brought,
But he clenched his fists as his instincts he fought.
Avery gave him an apple and he took it with care
As if he struggled to believe it was there.
Then he took it and bit it, his eyes closed tightly
As he savored the fruit and rocked back and forth slightly.

I looked at him and was taken by surprise
By his tight, pale skin and the absence in his eyes.
The black, gold, and blue, I remembered from before
Were the colors of our saviors, not the ones who declared war.
So he was a friend, or at least so I thought –
He had still killed men in the war that he fought.

“You’re a soldier,” Avery said as he watched the man eat.
“Been out here a while.” He got to his feet
and sat next to the man, but the man moved away.
“Tell me your name, or can you not say?”

“My name doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things –
We’re all going to lose when the final bell rings.
But my name is Sam, and I’ve been here two weeks.
I’m not the one your consciousness seeks.
I’m not some savior, some hero or god,
But I can get you to safety with a night promenade.
Just give me more food – I’ve been here for too long.
And I’ll still be here when the soldiers are gone.”

I handed him a pear and he bit into it with ease.
“Why are you out here? Can you tell us, please?”

“This war is wrong, I’ve known from the start.
You people are traitors after my heart.
Another country comes to your aide,
But none of you deserve to be saved.”

Avery narrows his eyes. “What are you saying?
By leaving your army, aren’t you betraying
All the trust of a nation and the people at home,
And the people here who are left all alone?”

“The people at home are all gone and betrayed,
and messages to soldiers are never relayed
Till after the cities are burned to the ground.
Then you hear the news, and don’t make a sound,
’Cause you don’t want to speak when your wife is dead,
And your child was shot through its little head.
But still, you must go out and fight
When all you can think of every night
Is the look on their faces, what they might have been thinking
When all around them, their lives were sinking.”
He looked outside at the trees and the snow,
And the minutes dragged on, quiet and slow.

“So you think it’s our fault that your family is gone?
We just lost our village to fires – come on.
And if you are here, where’s your captain, your men?
Tell us what you’re doing here, then.”

An insane smile broke out on Sam’s face:
“They wouldn’t be dead if you weren’t in this place.
If you had stayed where you were, dispersed in the world –
Then none of this would have unfurled.
I’d be home in my bed and my baby would be crying,
But instead here I sit, freezing and trying
To survive in a war that never should’ve started
And left so many people alone and broken-hearted.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Avery’s eyes were hard.
“Where was your army when our town needed guards?”

“They’re long gone by now; there’s nothing I can do.
But you think this war is all about you
And your stupid town, just like all the rest –
What do you think makes you the best?”

“Tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.
We’ll see if there’s anything we can combine
To make some sense of this conflict of ours,
And then you can use some of your super powers
To determine how this is all our fault
And pull us into your pessimist cult.”

Sam smiled again and his eyes shone with tears.
“It’s not a story I’ll tell for years.”

“Then I’ll start us out, if you won’t tell your tale.
Relax and keep eating so you won’t look so pale
And we’ll set out tomorrow and head for the Seas
So we’ll finally escape this place with ease.

“I was born far away, but my parents brought me here
And I soon fell in line with people that appear
To be friends but who laugh when you turn
And pray you’ll die soon so you’ll finally learn
That you’re different and never will be the same,
That your residence here is not just some game.
War has raged for years and years,
Has prayed on people’s hopes and fears –
And while the soldiers fight and fall,
They hold no love for us at all.
For we are strange and we are not
Part of a land that they’ve forgot,
Nor part of something long since past,
Or some signed page that didn’t last.”

“Which is why you should’ve stayed where you were.”

“Excuse me, I’m not done yet, Sir.
This country moved in and started to kill
Those who were crippled and those who were ill.
They killed the ones who could not run,
Then they chased the rest just for the fun.
But when war was declared, everyone knew
That far and wide, many and few,
We would all be targets for hatred and fear;
And it’s hard to think that, in just six years,
Over a million people have ceased to exist
But still, your troops keep on and persist.
“You don’t live here, of that I am sure –
You speak with an accent I’ve not heard before.
But the strength in your army lies with the fact
That until there is peace, you will not turn back.
We have lost so many more than you,
And still your army will see this through.”

“You’re so naïve and like to think
that between yours and ours, there is a link.
But there isn’t, and that is clear –
You do not belong here.”

“And if we turned and left right now,
Would you like to tell me how
We would rebuild our lives and carry on
When all we know and love is gone?”

“You think you’re so much different than me?
I’ve just lost my family.
I’ve got nothing left, and my home was burned down –
I’m the only one left from my entire town.
You’re not the only ones who face death every day,
But somehow you still think that it’s okay
To get an army involved in a war you should fight
To get what you want if you think it’s right.
We’re fighting for you, but where are your men?
Where’s your army to protect you, then?”
He pulled out a radio and turned it on low,
And we heard the command for the army to go.
“I got this from a soldier,” Sam solemnly said.
“I sat with him until he was dead.”

“Why would you sit with the soldiers you fight?”

“Like I said before: We both do what’s right.
Come with me now – they’re leaving your town;
If we move fast, we can make it down
To the base of this hill, then it’s yards to the shore.
Then I won’t have to see you anymore.
If you would, don’t say a word –
I don’t want to be overheard.”

We all stood up and stretched for a second,
Then followed Sam out when he sighed and beckoned.
Silent as night, we moved through the trees,
Heading westward toward the Seas.
I watched Sam walk and noticed his gait
Was that of a man who did not like to wait.
Leaving me with his parents, Avery matched his pace,
And I died to see the look on each face.

The sun was rising as we reached the sand,
And Sam and Avery held out their hands
To help the deaf ones over the ridge
That separated us from our safety bridge.

“Who’s that over there?” Avery pointed across the coast,
Where another soldier sat, as pale as a ghost.

“He’s against us,” Sam said, his eyes distant.
And as the soldier saw him, his reaction was instant
But weak all the same, a pitiful glare.
His face set in stone, Sam walked over there.
He sat down beside the man and waved us all near,
Then offered up food, with a gentle, “Here.”

As the new soldier ate – he was thinnest of all –
We looked out to the sea, where the snow ceased to fall.
The soldier was dressed in red and slate grey,
Two colors I remember to this very day.
He was bleeding from his hair and had mud on his face
And pain in his eyes time could not erase.
Sam connected with him, I could tell by his eyes –
They were open and sad and clear of disguise.
“On Christmas, 1914,” he started quietly,
“World War One raged on, so violently.
But for just a week, maybe even for less,
Men put down their weapons and hoped for the best.
For it was Christmas, a time to be merry,
And they had so many bodies to bury.
They tried to have fun – there were so many –
And they all thought to themselves, ‘Can we?
Can we really do this in a time so dire?
When our whole existence might come down to the wire?’

“But they weren’t townspeople or rich men in Rome –
They were just soldiers who wanted to go home:
Scots, Frenchmen and Germans, up from their lines,
Singing and playing and having great times.
And when air strikes approached from both sides,
The men crossed No Man’s Land in tides
While finding safety in a foreign trench,
Whether Scottish, German, or French.

“And no men died in those few days of peace.
But everyone knew that it had to cease,
For war carried on even though they were not,
And the men they had played with would have to be fought.
But no one could do it – that’s the beauty of it all:
They could not fight, so not one man did fall.”

Avery looked up and kept his eyes off of mine.
“This isn’t World War One and it’s past Christmas time.”

“Does it really matter in the whole of the world?
Peace, for me, is the greatest reward,
Whether Christmas or not, whether hot or cold,
Whether I’m young and fast, or slow and old.
This war is your fault – I still believe that,
But there must be a way to get over the fact
That you shouldn’t be here and we shouldn’t be fighting,
And maybe then we could all be lighting
Fireworks, rather than flares for warning.
And then we’ll all see a brighter morning.”