The Cocoon

By Christopher P.

St. Marguerite d'Youville Secondary School
Brampton

The sun was setting, as I gently opened my silver canister and poured out the remaining tea into my cup. The tea made slow crackling sounds as it hit the bottom of my silver cup. There was a light, smoky steam that arose from it as I continued to pour; it created a scent and warmth that reminded me of home. The silky, soft, tan colour of the thin liquid brought me back to times of old, and their care free days. I sipped it, the gentle taste of it revealed to me the memories of back home, the days where I sat and watched the sunsets from my front porch, hearing the glistening voices of young children playing as they expressed their love for the summer's warmth. Home was all but a distant memory now, just a temporary escape of my troubles that were so eminent. It was just those memories that were keeping awake, as I slowly sipped away. I looked over beside me and gazed into the evening sky, the colours of orange, blue and magenta slowly entangling itself with one another, it seemed to distract me and take my mind of the pain, and the blood that was eagerly gushing from my wound. There were so many things that I had wanted to do in this life, so many missed opportunities and chances that seemed so insignificant back then were now so inviting and intriguing, but all that didn't matter now. As I lay here in this man made cave carved out of a city building, pieces of debris, the corpse of my fallen comrade and fabric were scattered all around, it made me think about how I was in the past and what I have become now.

Wake up!! Wake up!!! Its time for school!! My mother shouted out to me, as she tried to unveil the warm, soft covers that were tightly wrapped around me, as if it were a cocoon, and I the caterpillar inside was not just ready to come out. Yet somehow my mothers' uncanny strength managed to yank the covers clean off, this was a daily ritual at our house. I slowly cringed out of bed, as I was treated by a cold draft, and made my way to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, and gazed at my refection, at my normal brown eyes, slightly large nose, my semi clear complexion, and my athletic physique that Ihad so prided myself in,not bad I remarked. As I continued on with my routine, I left the bathroom and headed to my room to change grunting all the way there. My mother heard me and replied "you should be grateful that you have a school, there are so many kids in Africa wishing to be in your position". I sighed at continued. My mother was right, It wasn't that I didn't like school it was just that it seemed so pointless for me now, it wasn't that I am I bad student or get bullied or anything of that sort, but it was the problems that I made in my own head that caused me to be under so much stress. Work seemed to bore me now, my once vivid imagination and vocabulary had diminished and my work ethic had almost dipped down to nothing, there were just so many things going on in my own head that I didn't know what to do.

I was a normal teenager, just like any other, and that was my problem I was just another fish in the sea, still not knowing what I wanted to be in life, not knowing what I was good at, not knowing what I could bring to the table, I felt confused. I had friends, and good ones at that, but still lacked the courage and determination to do anything outside my comfort zone, and my personality didn't help me much either, I was always the quiet, nice kid, who was funny at times, but was never able to quite live up to my full potential, I always stood in the background and never knew my place. Ever so often I would try and break out of my box and try something new, and it would work for sometime but in the end I would still feel the same as if I hadn't accomplished anything.

This went on for sometime, months passed and I still tried to find my way, but nothing. I always talked to my father about it and he always told me that I had great potential and that one day I will do great things, and that's where he coined the term about the cocoon "a weak caterpillar will go around soaking up and eating everything it can find, then one day grow itself a cocoon, slowly mounting and changing and adapting under its environment, not fully knowing what it will become until one day its breaks free and its true calling is revealed along with its beauty and courage". I still remember that saying to this day.

Days went by, and I continued with my routine, not knowing that around the next bend would the day that my life would finally change for the better and my day of blooming will finally come.

That day began as any other; I got ready and geared myself for the long day ahead. When I reached school I was shocked to see a flyer on the board, it was a flyer calling people to join the army. Something about that flyer called out to me and something stirs inside of me, and I knew I had finally found my calling. I knew that this was the break I was always looking for; the army would give me the strength, concentration and ability to push my self to the limit, and most importantly give me courage. I had decided to join the army.

After years of training and school I had finally earned my rank as a reserve, and was on stand by, eagerly awaiting my chance to go into battle. My life was so different now I had so much to look forward to; it had given me a new perspective on life.

A few years later, news of a war had broken out in the Middle East, and I knew this would be my turn to fight over seas for a great cause. Early on one summer morning, I arose to a phone call, telling me that my division was registered into battle. I was a bowl of emotions; a stern sense of fear had taken over me, followed by a sense of excitement, I knew that this was for real, and I was finally doing something I would be proud of.

Later that afternoon my division and I had got on a jet and were immediately sent to a base just of the shore, near a coastal city. I quickly got of the plane and embraced the new surroundings, my destiny. When I looked over to the western skies, all its colours were shining in all its glory, reminding me of home, this was home. For weeks we trained, and trained hard, mercilessly in the scorching heat of the dessert in all our gear, preparing ourselves for battle. But it would be months before I get to see any action, it had been quiet around our base, and I feared that nothing would happen.

It was a cool night, the stars, was out, and lit up the vast and empty dessert sky, the horizon still filled with smoke, from the bon fire our division had made. The sweet odor of firewood and hotdogs filled my lungs, and relaxed me back, I thought to myself just then , that maybe it was better that I didn't see any action, and that how precious a life was, I was already thinking of back home and the so many things that I wanted to accomplish, and one day would. I closed my eyes and began to dream.

Just then a loud bang entered the base, followed by another; I opened my eyes to see what had happened, and to see if I had not dreamed it all. The bunker was on fire, two enemy missiles had pierced the base, and then smell of burning oil surrounded. We quickly got dressed and picked up our rifles, when a deafening roar of machine guns pierced the night sky, the darkness of night was now lit up by enemy weapons, and it was as if the stars were on fire, I quickly shuffled out, before an enemy rocket had hit my bunker, the enemy had surrounded us. Just then allied jets blew by, ripping through the heavens, and dropping their bobs of aid along the way. I got to my position, on the back seat of an armored car, and began to snipe violently, trying my best to weaken the enemy.

The remaining soldiers had driven away, our bunker had been captured, and we were on our way to the closest allied base. Passing through the cities observing how the once tall, stone buildings had been leveled to cinders and pebbles, the mighty walls of before had crumbled. We stopped and the remaining soldiers got out of the car, and scoped around, it was strangely quiet and the eerie hush, sent our hearts into our throats. Slowly we walked through the ally's looking for survivors, trying to be as discreetly as possible. Then suddenly a shot had fired, I turned around to see my comrade on the ground beside me, and just like that a sea of fire emerged from the dusk skies. It was total chaos now, the sound was near deafening and it was enough to drive any person mad. We hid ourselves trying to shield against the enemy fire, trying to get closer to them at every opportunity that presented itself, but I tell you there weren't many.

Hours passed by and the firing didn't stop, it seemed that the enemy was winning, and reinforcements were not going to reach on time, but we had to keep faith. My senses now were almost obsolete, the vociferous sounds of weapons had made me deaf, and the only thing I could taste was the dust in the air. A thick blanket of fog and dust had engulfed the surroundings and made viability, nonexistent. A blind man had a better chance out here then we did. Then suddenly something caught the corner of my eye, as I looked over I saw two people, a young women and what looked like a young child fleeing from the violence. I quickly rose, and fearing no time to waste I got up and ran as fast as I could to the two, I was almost at arms reach of them when I heard a sot fired and it nearly whizzed by me, as I jumped in front of the women, knocking them down and covering them. We then slowly crawled to the nearest shelter, what looked like a cave, dug out of a side of a building, shots fired wildly all around. When we were in safety, I looked at the women face; it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Her eyes like crimson jewels, glistening in the sun, her skin so soft like velvet. We stayed there for a while, in silence gathering ourselves after what had just happened. Then quietly a gentle voice came out that of an angle and a thank you rang out after that. I smiled and offered her and the child some food, just then at that moment I felt a sharp pain, and a feeling of cold that I had never experienced, it was like a thousand daggers piercing me one by one, I looked down to see, the scarlet canvas that now cloured my uniform, I had been hit, slowly I felt the cold get worse, I then quickly poured sand and applied pressure on the wound in a desperate effort to stop the bleeding. This should have been the most terrifying moment in my life, but a silent calm had come over me and I was at ease, I began to speak to the two, and with each word that came out of the women lips seemed to take away of one those daggers that were digging inside me.

Some time had passed now and the firing had ceased. The day was slowly Turing into evening, and the shadows began to appear, revealing the ruins of the city. I gently hushed the two to sleep, and began to ponder as when the others would arrive, or if they would ever find us. Slowly the dust began to clear and the tender, rays of the sun had now turned into a mirage of dazzling colours, each one more breathtaking then the next. It was getting hard to breath, and a terrible thirst had come over me. I eagerly turned and pulled out my canister and poured out some tea. The pain had somewhat dulled now, and a strange peace had come over me. The blood continued to pour out, but it didn't bother me, I looked over to see the peaceful faces of the two, the two that I had saved. It was worth everything to me, and I would gladly do it again.