english journal 8 (1/08) the gunnery washington, connecticut

Did You Hear the Frightened Ones?A FairytaleDid you see the frightened ones?Did you hear the falling bombs?Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter when the promise of a brave new world unfurledbeneath a clear blue sky?-George Waters, Pink FloydThe boy was only six years old when it happened. It’s a shame. To be so young, and tofeel such deep and fully-developed emotions. The funeral was small, and, as his mother wasn’table to hold herself together, the boy received the flag that a person receives when one of theirloved ones dies while on the front lines. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He held itawkwardly, like a father holding a newborn child. He stared at the flag, his eyes unmoving andconstant, trying to piece together a situation far beyond his intellectual capabilities. And as achild, confused and alone, he knew only one thing that he could do. He cried. He fell down onthe spot and sobbed. He cried for days, being unable to handle the situation at hand. Hismother joined him in his sorrow, understanding the situation and having it hurt more. But soonthe child stopped, quickly and abruptly, like he was hit by a car. For now, he would start asubconscious mental process, that he was neither aware of nor the proprietor of. It justhappened. And now, it would be appropriate to call the boy “a very sick little boy.”His connections with the outside world ceased. He didn’t want to feel pain anymore, sohis mind built a mental wall. All incoming thoughts were stopped, and he stopped feelinghuman emotions. He could not love, for there was nothing for him to adore. He could not fear,for there was nothing to be afraid of. The boy had lost the traits that make us human. And now,he was nothing but a trapped soul, inside a feeling-less shell, that had nothing that someonecould classify as human.His mother immediately pulled him out of school, and sent him to a far off place wheredoctors were constantly touching him, taking his temperature, and asking him questions. Theyfelt that the boy needed to be cured. But there was no such thing. No ‘cure’ was possible. Bythe time the boy arrived at the doctor’s place, the worms in his brain already had such a tightstranglehold on his existence, that only the boy himself could set his mind, his existence, andhis body free.English Journal 8 (January 2008) 72