All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
End of Quiet
Go
Don’t come back till you’ve shot that fox
My father shouts at me
He thrusts a shotgun into my hand
And tells me to hurry and leave
I don’t want to kill anything
I tell him
It never hurt me
He tells me if I don’t come back with a body
I shouldn’t come back at all
I grab
My green floppy hat
My camo jacket
My brown hiking boots
My father’s gun
Sitting by the door
It fills me with dread
I take an apple
And head out the door
I hesitate in the doorway
My father shoves me the rest of the way out
The door is shut
And locked
Behind me
I have never been alone in the woods before
I wonder if I will make my way out
If I do
I will not be the same as when I went in
Inside the woods
Everything is different
It is survival of the fittest here
And I have just entered the ring
The birdsong is louder than a whistle
Butterflies skitter at the beat of my footsteps
In the distance, something howls
The thing I hear most though
Quiet
My home is never just
Quiet
Daddy is screaming
Momma is screaming
The baby is crying
My brother is shouting
In the woods
No one shouts
Or screams
Or cries
Nature runs its course here
And that’s the way it is
A rabbit
White as snow
Runs across in front of me
I stop to watch it go
I stare at it
It stares back
Its as if it knows
I’m not here for it
Slowly slowly slowly
I reach for my gun
Line up the shot
Aim and
Nothing
I can’t kill an innocent thing
It’s not right
I stomp my foot
To scare it away
It runs into a hole
And doesn’t come out
It’s for the best
I reason
Maybe
It has a rabbit family down there
Maybe
They are depending on it for food
I keep walking
Dreading
Finding the fox
I must bring home
Dead
After a while
I spot them
Two fox cubs in a clearing
They wrestle to the ground
The start to play tag
They leave
I scramble to follow them
Oh no
They’re headed towards a giant hole
BAM
The first fox falls in
The second
Skids to a stop
Right at the edge
They yip
At each other
Trying to get out
The second fox
Plants his feet
Sticks his head in the hole
A minute later
He pulls it back out
With the other fox attached
I breathe a sigh of relief
The foxes continue on
And I with them
They keep running
And chasing
Until one turns around
And crashes
Straight into a briar patch
The fox starts yipping
And can’t seem to get out
I decide
To come out and help
I jump out
The other fox screeches
And runs away
I reach out for the other fox
I realize what I must do
I unsling my gun
Line up the shot
The fox
Yips and yips
And struggles harder
Realizing what I am here to do
I quiet my brain
That tells me
I can’t do this
I shouldn’t kill an innocent
I tell myself to shut up
I line up the shot
Aim and
BANG
BANG
BANG
3 shots ring out
The forest is
Silent
No more birds singing
No more butterflies
No more animals
The forest is silent
I thought I liked silence
Not anymore
Not anymore
I look down
At the fox
Still stuck in the briar patch
I see blood-
Sticky crimson
Staining everything it touches-
Blood
It’s everywhere
On the briars
On the fox
On my hands
I pull the fox out
I look at his
Cold lifeless eyes
Eyes that
A minute ago
Twinkled
While he played with his brother
I close them
I shove the body in my bag
Sling it over my shoulder
Try to find my way back
I look back down
My hands
My clothes
Are stained with blood
Sticky
Staining everything it touches
I drop to the ground
Wipe my hands
On the grass
The grass is red now too
I tell myself
To get up
Stop crying
You’re not a baby
Go home
Father will be proud
Father will be proud
Father will be proud
Right?
I wipe my tears
Now there is blood
On my face
I march
Straight home
I pretend not to see
How the rabbits hide
From me now
How the birds
Fly away
At the sound of my boots
There are no more butterflies
My father
Is standing in the doorway
I show him the bag
He sees the bloody trail
I have left behind me
He smiles
Pats me on the shoulder
You did good son
I’m proud of you
He turns and goes inside
I’m proud of you
I’m proud of you
He’s never said that before
I decide
Right then and there
I will do
Whatever
It takes
to make him say that again
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
I wrote this poem for my creative writing class at school. The idea for this came to me at like 11:00 the night before it was due. I don't 100% know what I was going for, but I think it was mainly about growing up and changing, or losing your innocence.