When you ask me,

"Who are you,"

All I can answer is,

What I have told myself.

(Also I'm not dead, hello to anyone still following me from a year ago)

Beeeeep, whiz, bzzzzzzzzzzzz! An elegant machine rose a few feet off its hard, gray, launch/landing pad. It was a marvelous thing, with six sharp rotors supported on a large chassis about three feet wide. This chassis held on to the two, relatively small, landing skis, and the dual .45 caliber machine guns. It was shaped like a smoothed hexagonal prism, and was very strong. Like a giant eye, a sixty megapixel, 120 degree view, streamlined camera was fixed in the middle of it all. The sleek sextacopter was colored with grey, white, and blue on the bottom for camouflage in these high mountains.

A man on the ground shouted, “We’re linked!” A woman yelled back, “Got it!” and spoke into a radio. A crackly, “Standby Delta,” was heard, and all went silent except for the high pitched buzzing of the large drone hovering over its platform.

The men and women of the Delta team sat in anxious silence. Each was dressed in winter camouflaged combat pants, flak jackets, and boots and helmets, and had a heavy coat over the top. Each had an evil looking assault rifle over their back, and a wicked knife strapped to their ankle. Despite the heavy garments, they shivered a little, not from the cold. The woman’s radio crackled suddenly, “Delta, get ready, we go green in sixty seconds.”

All at once, the team stood up, and moved out of their huddle and to computers they had set up haphazardly on crates and with a radio transmitter for the drone. Programs and software were already open when they got there, and now everyone waited for the radio to crackle again. The woman with the radio sat in her chair with one hand on the flight controls and one hand on the radio. “All teams, Operation Frostbite is a go, I repeat, Operation Frostbite is a go!”

There was no cheering, everyone snapped into focus. The woman with the radio, her name was Private Rachel Conchalann, immediately barked “We’re green, go!” The others were already on it. Rachel pushed the throttle forward, and the drone climbed higher. At the same time, she began moving forward. The drone soared overhead. “I need a nav!” She yelled. “Heading: 136 degrees South East! We’re about 15 klicks out by the latest projection!” Replied a man not over 20, just in front of her. Schwartz was his name. The speedometer read 44 km/h. Top speed was 50. It would only take a little while before they reached the convoy. Linda adjusted the flight path and turned on autopilot.

In the distance, black dots were seen moving through the sky. Other drones, some other Apex 754 fighter drones, and larger Orca 22 heavy artillery drones. All moved in the same general direction, and in distinct formations. They were slowly separating in a beautiful, coordinated movement.

Rachel's feed showed a lush pine forest flying below the sky. Here and there, patches of other trees showed flashes of orange, red, and yellow leaves that were only around for a short time of year. “It must be beautiful,” she thought, but she didn’t dwell on what reminded her of explosions. Anyway, she had a mission to stay a part of, right? “Four klicks out!” Shouted Schwartz, and another man, Anderson, entered a command and grasped his controls. “Arms ready!” He shouted. ” To her left, Rachel's all time companion, Private Lee D’Malta, shouted “All systems nominal!” “Let’s do this. Let’s make them hurt.” Said their commander in cheif, Sargent Stacy Greene with narrowed eyes. Delta affirmed. The drone rushed on through the dusk.

All was quiet as the drone flew, save the sound from its, and its two squadmates’ rotors. The sunset set a picturesque, and ironic backdrop for the scene. All around the three was beautiful country, full of snow, sky, and beautiful, strong trees. The occasional lake or herd of caribou could be seen. But there were signs of trouble if you looked. On the horizon, a plume of smoke could be seen. A hastily built road cut through the landscape with tire and boot tracks. In some places, there was red snow, broken branches, and sometimes a boot or a coat was seen covered by the wind-blown landscape.

A sound of truck engines and some shouts could be heard further ahead in the direction the trio was heading. Another trio of fighter drones and a group of three artilery drones met up with the original. They all dropped to less than twenty feet above the tree line. Radar was never an issue, but the element of suprise was still an advantage. Invisible to their allies, and also the common enemy, seventeen of these groups of drones moved in for the kill. Like sharks, they moved beneath the surface, ready to strike.

A wide road was soon seen up ahead, and in one long line, ten strong trucks pushed through the snowbanks. With them were four small vehicles equipped with anti-aircraft guns, a single file collumn of soldiers on either side, and two tanks. The guns were designed for large airplanes and helicopters, not small drones. This would be an easy battle.

The main objective was to disarm this convoy, and keep the survivors pinned until U.S. and Canadian forces could move in, and take the prisoners and supplies. These supplies were to be salvaged, not destroyed. The commander was very clear. The job of the artillery drones was to destroy the armored escorts to the convoy, while the fighters picked off soldiers that provided the biggest threat to the drones. U.S. and Canadian forces were already inbound to take control of the convoy, but they were outnumbered, so the drone teams had to clear the way. As the drones flew over the last of the trees, their teams got the message to engage.

Hello, my name is Oskar, and I’m 15. I’m sort of a jack of all trades, because I’m into quite a lot. I also wanna point out that I don't do these things every day, just mostly things I do when I get bored. My schoolwork, friends, YouTube, and marching band take up a good 90% of my time. To start off, I really like science, engineering, and technology. I do hobby engineering as well as take a class at my school, and really like flying drones and rockets. I also work a decent amount with computer hardware, performing maintenence on my ancient PC, and taking apart old laptops and using the components in other applications., I want to learn a lot more about coding than I do now, and my goals include the Arudino IDE, JavaScript, and Python. I’ll be learning JavaScript and Python in school next year, but for now I’m trying to learn the Arudino IDE. I am also a gamer, with a Minecraft YouTube channel, and I like all kinds of games. MMOs, Battle Royales, FPSs, and sandbox games. My mom taught me German when I was really little, and I am taking my ninth year of Spanish, so I’m trilingual, but I also want to learn American Sign Language, and Greek. But I don’t even know the alphabet for those two, so don’t ask me to say anything :). Writing is one area I want to do more, and that’s the main reason I joined this website. One more thing I like to do on occasion is still photography. I only use my phone, but I like to take pictures of things. I also want to eventually get into film making, but thats a ways in the future. Second to last, I really like to be outside, and I mountain bike, hike, and ski a lot. Lastly, I really like music. In addition to playing trombone in my school’s marching band, I like to make electronic music on an app on my iPad. Thanks for reading this all the way through :), hope you enjoyed.

Tagged: @justaperson

I stepped back from the gravestone. Made of new marble, and adorned with flowers, it had been put there far before its time. It seemed almost ironic how the birds sang, and the children at the park across the street played in the warm sun, while the body of a special someone had been put in the ground just hours ago. I supposed the deceased must be at peace now, as the stories went, but I could not bring myself to believe it. It just seemed too hard.

A young woman stepped forward from behind me, wiped some tears from her eyes, and laid a fresh boquet of flowers by the grave. It was my wife, Linda. She didn’t notice me, and walked slowly away. She must’ve been struggling with the loss. Her appearance was unexpected and brought tears to my eyes. She continued to walk, taking small, shuffling steps that reminded me of our son, still crying.

At this, I knew it was time. Time for me to say goodbye too. I shivered, scared, yet determined. My jaw was set, and I was formed into a steel. I turned back towards where Linda continued to walk. I sighed, and thought of everyone and everything I knew. I slowly brought my eyes to the gravestone. Read my name one last time. It was time to go. A sigh escaped my lips, disappearing with the wind. I looked towards the small silver car that now carried my wife. Goodbye...

Tags etc:

@demcmurphy

#fiction #shortstory

When it comes to anger, I am a water tank. A huge resovoir that takes a very long time to fill up. The steady, slow trickle of water throuought the day, moving through the outlet again, keeps levels to a minimum. But some days the trickle is a flow, and the tank fills up much more quickly than normal. It reaches maximum. The pressure mounts. But the tank is strong, and it is released through the outlet. Next day, it is better. So goes most of my life, mostly without anger. But sometimes, the circumstances are just right, or wrong, depending on how you look at it. The tank fills, the outlet is blocked. But the tank is strong, until it fails. Then all hell breaks loose. The tank explodes and water gets everywhere. This tank is huge, the water is huge. This explosion almost broke a solid granite countertop. It screamed itself hoarse. It collapsed and tried to rebuild itself, a process that takes a long, guilt ridden time. But the tank and the flooded recover. And levels still stay at a minimum.

A friendly face passes by,

Third time this week we say hi, then bye.

My heart rises then falls again,

Waiting to see her face again.

A day passes in a dreamlike trance,

A Romeo, a Juliet, we dance.

In my head I gaze into her ocean eyes,

But alas, we are still only “hi,” and “bye.”

I drift along to sleep that night,

Dreaming through glee and fright.

That it’s hopeless, a love trap,

That it’s perfect, we stick together like sap.

The sun rises, I wake back up,

Ready for our routine meetup.

I see into the oceans, rough suddenly, with waves,

I ask why, she says goodbye, her tone, dark and grave.

I trip and fall in a downwards spiral, my head is swimming,

I feel a hundred thousand pounds, yet thinning.

I ask why, she says “sorry, we can’t speak,

I’m with someone, I wont cheat.”

It’s a crack, a thud, a devastating hit,

Straight through my heart with the question, “is this it?”

I stumble, crash to the ground,

She strides by, without a sound.

I look after her, nursing the wound,

Blood pouring out with memories of dreams, of swoon.

I think, I know, I did nothing wrong,

I decide to rise up, to be strong.

With gritted teeth I remove the dagger,

It will kill me, that wicked blade, should I leave it in, and stagger,

So I grasp it, ready to fight,

Force it into the padlock with all my might.

The lock breaks, I am free,

I look at the weapon with a vengeful glee.

I look after her, still walking away,

Wanting to chase her down, but nay.

I think back to the stormy sea,

Thinking about how the waves weren’t directed at me.

Revenge is a coward’s path anyway,

I drop the bloodied dagger, throw it away.

I step forward, the other way,

Maybe we’ll make amends some other day.

Who knows? Maybe there’s still a chance,

Romeo and Juliet might someday dance.

If not, it’s over, and it’s done,

Maybe I’ll never finish what I’d begun,

But, for now, it’s not goodbye,

We will always still be hi, and bye.

Hashtags (Ignore these):

#poetry #memoir #nonfiction