I am from Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I am in the 9th Grade. I love to write outside of the classroom as well as in the classroom. I also play hockey, which helps to come up with a lot of stories. :)
Written By: Lucas Wanrooy
September 25, 2014
The pack was closing in behind us. There wasn’t anywhere left to run. We would have to face them. With only half of the Tribe and none of our dogs to help us, this was bound to be a tough fight. Running to my family’s tent, I grabbed the spear my father gave me as a boy. My first battle. Coming in like a storm, the first wolf was bulky and fast. It immediately went for our Chief. They kept on coming over the hill until they outnumbered us two-to-one. Two of them rushed towards me, teeth bared. My spear tip was aimed at the nearest one’s heart, ready to protect the Tribe. I heard quick, heavy steps coming from behind me. I ducked, and the wolf from behind me jumped right over me. It’s massive body collided with the beast in front of me. Lunging at them, I jab as hard as I can towards their mass of muscle. Tearing through their flesh, I wince at the pain in my heart for killing these creatures. Looking to my left, I realize that the wolves were retreating. The Chief was watching them as they ran away, pride in his eyes. We were unstoppable. When I looked back down at the corpses of the wolves I had killed, my heart is still grimacing. I never expected battle to feel like this. It shouldn’t have hurt me that bad. They were the ones that took my mother from me at such an early age. They were the ones that killed my tribe’s chief so long ago. They were the ones that stole from me so many of my brothers. It should only be fair for me to kill two of them. Our hunters were just coming back from a good hunt. They had five bucks between the eight of them. Seeing the sweat running down our faces and the wounds from the recent battle, the lead hunter immediately went to the Chief’s tent to discuss what happened. This war with the wolves had been going on for as long as the Tribe had been together. ¨Siku!¨ The voice carried from across the camp. Quickly, I turn to see my grandfather yelling for me. ¨Yes, grandfather?¨ I called back to him. He seemed to be rushing over to see me. ¨Are you okay? That was some fight,¨ He commented. ¨Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little shaken up,¨ I assured him. ¨That was a great fight you had back there,¨ he praised. He looked exhausted from the fight as well, even though he didn’t fight. ¨You took down two bulky wolves by yourself! You make me so proud.¨ His words gave me the chills. He’s proud of me! Then another thought hit me. For killing two great living creatures... ¨Sir?¨ I asked, seeing him scan my body for wounds. ¨Yes, Siku?¨ he quietly responded without returning my gaze. ¨I don’t like to kill the wolves,¨I admitted, ¨It feels like I’m killing something with a soul. Something that can feel the pain.¨ I waited for him to give me some helpful advice. My grandfather hesitated. He looked up at me, then retorted, ¨They can’t have a soul, my boy. Anything with a soul knows not to kill for fun.¨ ¨I can’t kill them though. I feel their pain. How can I hurt them if-¨ ¨You have to hurt them. It is for the tribe,¨ he cuts in. ¨Well I can’t!¨ I objected. ¨All of the creatures in this great world feel pain, and I don’t know how I can like to kill them.¨ ¨Well, you need to figure it out. If you can’t do this for the whole of the tribe, then maybe you should not be part of us,¨ He said with a threatening look on his face. I can’t believe it. He would kick me out of the tribe. Just because I find it hard to kill. The thought hits me hard. I don’t belong here.