Victims of the Ultimate Sacrifice | Teen Ink

Victims of the Ultimate Sacrifice

April 5, 2018
By yrohan74 BRONZE, Naperville, Illinois
yrohan74 BRONZE, Naperville, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I tell him to hurry up

His face comes into view

A big beard,

A toothy smile

I position myself on the bike


We push off

His hands guide me

We laugh and fall

Lying on the grass,

Staring at a plum-sized sun with a royal blue backdrop

I ask him if he really has to go

His smile disappears and the same grim face I see in the pictures come back

They need me he responds

My brothers are dying there

I ask him if he might die

He gives me a cold smile and says no

Instead of reassurance,

A thread of fear enters my heart as a raindrop hits my cheek



One month since


I see him waiting,

Clearer than day, that same yellow bike next to him

I mount it and wait for the push

It never comes

I let out a guttural roar

While my heart is being cut by a thousand knives

The wind carries my teacher’s voice

In the form of a whisper into my ear

Time will make him heal.

The message for her colleague was told to me



One year since

Night has fallen

And a bzzzzzzing sound can be heard

I zoom down the road

I feel gentle, yet firm hands surround me

Guiding me home

I know who it is

When will I forget him I wonder

I fall from my bike

I lie on the cold hard pavement

With my tears forming a stream


One Decade since

Mom calls for me to pick up my things

Opening the dusty garage,

I see my belongings from childhood sitting in the corner

A dusty bike with a rusting chain

I quickly wipe a tear from my eye and curse myself

Why cry for a man I don’t know

My body quickly mounts the bike before my mind stops it

As my knees hit the handlebars

I pedal harder,

Ignoring the pain.

I fall onto the lawn

The grass prickles my cheek as his beard did that one day

I throw away what I don’t need,

And keep what I need...

And the bike


One Life since

Drunkenly sitting on the bike

Beer in hand

I lean over the picture of him in a uniform

Heart heavy

Eyes laden with tears

As the tears fall, the face is distorted

His mouth is moving

I hear his voice and those unfaithful words

It’ll only be 6 months


No dad,

You’re wrong,

it's forever

The author's comments:

This piece was something that I made after talking with a close family member.  Her father died in WWII and her story really struck a deep chord with me.   One thing she emphasized was her anger over him breaking his promise to come back.  She also said that she thinks of him every day and carries a picture of him with her everywhere.

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