Words of war

Dearest Adeline,

 I write from a hole in the ground. This might worry you, it might make you laugh or it might just make you curious. First, I would like to say I’m one hundred percent fine. I haven’t been injured, although I have seen a lot of that around me. It is a tough place to be in but one I feel I have to make people see. As usual, there are two rolls of film in this envelope that I trust you will deliver to my office as soon as you get the letter. They are very important pictures and I want them released fast.

 Sorry to make you work like this, as if you didn’t have anything else to do in this world, but the thing is I trust you, I really do. You are my best friend in the world and I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this delicate information. I’m even nervous that they could try to intercept it in its way home, but I know that is not a very likely thing to happen. When you’re in such a situation as this one, I guess you get a little paranoid and you start seeing things everywhere, expecting some kind of attack from any side.

 It is important that I tell you that, since Monday last week, I have been locked in this hole in the ground, as the battle ensues all around me. I have been trying to get away but the military tells me it would be suicide. I have even thought of going to the other side, as they would never kill a journalist with so many eyes looking at them. But that appears to be an impossibility right now, as bomber planes have been known to pass once or twice everyday and just flatten the ground between us and them with tons and tons of explosions.

 Besides that, I don’t really have anything to say besides asking how our you guys? I’ve heard of the political turmoil the war is causing there. But at least no violent acts have taken place and there’s still some shred of humanity back home. It might be silly to say, but I do trust them when it comes to defending freedom and all of that stuff. I have to believe in them because there’s no much else to believe in around these parts. I’ve seen too much to just turn cynical and stop caring about what’s going on.

 I’ll keep doing my job as well as I can because that’s all I can give at this moment. I wish love or caring was enough but the truth is, it just isn’t. These people get food rations every so often and it just doesn’t matter… But I have to keep believing. It’s all we have.

My best to you,

Ollie.

 My dear Ollie,

Hello. I have no real idea of how to start writing this letter. First of all, because I think its kind of fun that letters are still a thing in this very digital world. But as electricity is almost non-existent in that region, I understand that I must compel myself to write this words with a pen you gave me for my last birthday, the one you said belonged to a very well known author. He killed himself with this pen on his hand… How strange.

That was weird to write but the most important thing I have to tell you is that I have gotten all of your pictures to the paper. I had to argue with that idiot Melissa because she didn’t want me there. I guess that when you’re fired they don’t really want you back there, even if you have some killer pictures of one of the most important things happening in the world right now. I was tempted to kick her ass but I refrained myself. Aren’t you proud?

 Jonah and I went through all of your pictures and, I must say, I admire you. Some of them are just too much but they really do capture the horror of it all. We chose some that could be printed in the paper and I have a copy besides me right now. People seem to care and I think they will rally behind your pictures in order to stop all of this madness. Something has to be done. There’s too much blood in those pictures and, somehow, I feel as if there was a lot of blood in my hands now too.

 I have to confess I don’t understand your passion or your trust in the system. It’s this fucking system, which has caused all of this, the one that had killed those children in your pictures and so many more. I think it’s nice you think our country still stands for freedom and all of that shit, but you’re missing the point big time. If you could hear what they say and o here, I think that even a big patriot like you would not be able to deny how fucked up things are right now.

 It’s not my intention to pop your bubble but your work is too raw, too real to not be frank and honest about it. This is shit, Ollie. And they did it. The ones that love freedom and liberty and all the other crap. It was them who killed some many of those people.

 Anyway, keep doing your thing. It’s the only thing that matters now.

 I send you a hug,

Adeline.

REPORT #146 (CLASSIFIED)

-       SUBJECT: Termination of “Operation Thunder”

-       IMPORTANCE: Regional

-       DETAILS:

At 2 AM, local time, a squad of fifteen bombers was sent to the capital of the regime and was ordered to form a perimeter of explosions around the central compounds, in order to make the people in charge capitulate to our government. Although many fires and casualties were reported, there was no communication of any kind between our government and the regime we’ve been trying to suppress.

 At 4 AM, after failed attempts to contact their leaders, we ordered another pass with the same amount of bombers, in order to completely neutralize their central command. The presidential palace was confirmed to be destroyed, as well as all the adjacent building. Soldiers on the ground were ordered to stand by, to prevent any casualties from our side.

 At 4:30 AM, word got out of the country that not all our hits had been on target. Some of them had destroyed city blocks adjacent to the presidential palace. We acknowledged that earlier, in a closed door meeting, but somehow the information got out in record time, despite the lack of electricity or any real type of communications.

 At 5:15 AM, soldiers had been ordered to sweep the attacked area in order to look for survivors. One rogue agent was reported to have killed a high-ranking officer of the enemy’s army, no confirmation on the deceased’s identity. High command has ordered this information to be classified as soon as possible. No other survivors had been found at that time.

 At 9:45 PM, of the same day, a clandestine Internet server was found in a remote neighborhood of the city. The army was ordered to destroy the structure, before anyone else could verify its existence. Inside the destroyed building, soldiers found everything necessary to make a temporal Internet connection. Army officer are investigating further at the moment.

 The cease-fire has been ordered for midday the next day. Soldiers and crafts have been deployed to every single region. We are in stand by for Operation Endurance, which should commence in mere hours. Com out.

Rejection

   Jean grabbed her purse and the bag where she kept her laptop. She walked very fast but tried not to look angry, disappointed or anything else. She just wanted to leave that place as fast as she could. It was very uncomfortable to stay there after she had been so insulted. As she arrived to the elevator, the door closed as someone was going down just before her. She whispered a course word, frustrated that she had to wait like an idiot in order to leave a please she definitely didn’t wanted to stay in or return ever again. She felt too humiliated.

 Out of nowhere, one of the guys that had been there during her interview walked up to her. He told her that they had been looking for her. A tiny shimmer of light appeared in her heart only to be crushed moments later when she realized the man had come to find her because she had left her pen in the table. What was even more annoying, was that he started talking about the results of the interview and telling her, once again, about all the flaws she had as a writer and so on. She wanted the Earth to swallow her, as his voice was very loud and everyone around seemed to be listening.

 She had to close her eyes and just try to relax by breathing slowly, feeling the air through her body. Ignoring the man was not easy but she could at least think of something else as he talked and talked and talked. The lady that managed the reception on that floor looked at them with surprise and obvious disgust. When Jean opened her eyes, the lady looked at her straight in the eye and shook her head, then looking at the guy. Jean only smiled, thankful that at least one person realized in what an uncomfortable situation she was.

 Finally, the elevator opened up and she stepped in without even acknowledging the man. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to follow her into the elevator but fortunately he didn’t. He was even able to say anything else to Jean as she pressed hard the button that made the elevator close faster. She then pressed the number for the ground floor and started breathing normally again. She felt seriously awful and couldn’t believe she had to go home now in a bus that would take at least forty-five minutes. She didn’t felt good at all.

 Luckily, the bus didn’t take long to pass and she was able to find a free seat next to the window. She really wasn’t feeling ok and even though she was going to fall asleep, her brain wouldn’t let her. Not only because it may not be the best idea to fall asleep on a bus, but also because she had their words in her head. She could hear them once and again, trashing every single part of the work that she had done for them. Saying that they destroyed her isn’t enough to describe what went on in that conference room. A few tears rolled down her face.

 She had to clean herself with her hand because she had no tissues or anything like that. But it was clear to her that she had no intention to be the crazy woman in the bus that cries “for no reason”. So she tried to clean her tears off and attempted to think about something else. For example, the fact that she had left her family cat by herself. It wasn’t something that she did for the first time but it was something to think about. The cat was obviously ok but she had to create a problem in her mind in order to be able to resist the urge to cry.

 The bus took less time to her stop than it usually did. She hadn’t realized but she had left that office so early that there wasn’t even the normal traffic jam of peak time out in the streets. When she came down of the bus, she checked she had everything with her, including the pen she had forgotten in her pocket. Walking home took only five minutes. Her house had a cute garden that was brimming with light and color as she entered. It was as if nature was trying to cheer her up.

 And it did make her smile at least. When she entered the house, she called for her parents. Fortunately, no one answered back. They were normally there but she didn’t care where and why they had left, she only wanted to go to her run and be able to fall asleep and nap for while, all afternoon was possible. She dropped her purse and laptop bag on the ground and took off her shoes before lying down in bed. She faced upwards, towards the ceiling and, again, she could her all the criticism and the things all those men had said.

 She began to cry again but, this time, Jean didn’t clean her face or attempted to appear tougher than she looked. She didn’t need to do that, as that was her bedroom, her place in the world. There, she could do whatever she wanted and in that moment she wanted feel miserable for her. The words those men had said had been like daggers and they had stabbed her with them once and again and again. It was almost as if they had enjoyed themselves by doing so. To her, it was a very sick thing to do but she only reflected on that many days later.

 It had been really unnecessary to tell her all those things. They didn’t have to sink every single fiber of her soul by saying a lot of things that, even if part of the truth, weren’t as important in real life as they might have portrayed them. They essentially told her she had no idea how to write, that she couldn’t put three words together and that she made no sense whatsoever in what she had written for them. It was an essay about internal practices in very big companies.

 Jean had no idea of that. She had not been to business school or anything like it. She was just a normal girl trying to make her way into the world. She had thought that her English level was good enough for them but apparently it wasn’t. And of course it wasn’t because they had told her that she didn’t need to correct her essay for them and she didn’t. They lied to her because she would always do corrections but they had assured her they weren’t necessary. Besides, she had no idea of any business practices. She had a degree in creative writing, for God’s sakes!

 They had also told her that her way of portraying the business world was not very professional. And when she attempted to explain that she had no experience in the actual business world, as she had told the woman she had applied for the job too, they wouldn’t let her speak. They would only raise her voice and just keep talking. The guy that gave back her pen had been particularly nasty when saying that she shouldn’t have told them that she was actually good in English. At that moment she felt so enraged, she stood up and decided to leave.

After all, three men in one small conference room were attacking her. And it was all because of one miserable test they had set up in order to chose the perfect person for the freelance job they were looking for. They weren’t even going to take her into the company; they only wanted to see if she was available to do some texts for them once in a while. And, later that week, Jean realized the pay for one piece of writing was extremely mediocre compared to what people with no big company attached to them could pay her.

 It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t hired her but the fact that they had been deceitful in a way and that they had been so rude in explaining to her why she hadn’t been selected. After all, it made no sense that they had invited her to their offices only to insult her. It would have been better to receive an email with two phrases: one thanking her for applying and the other rejecting her application. It would be more direct and less surrounded with bullshit. She realized those guys only wanted to feel superior somehow and they had found their guinea pig in her.

 Jean fell asleep as she was thinking all of this. She woke up to the voice of her mom telling her it was dinnertime. When her parents asked how it had all went down, she told her everything that had happened and that she was planning to move along. It was hard for her to be her age, living with her parents and she did wanted to earn some money for herself but she wasn’t going to stop looking for a perfect fit to her talents. That company wasn’t the only one in the world and she was certain that, sooner or later, someone would be interested in what she could do.

A horse named Alex

   Every single horse ran immediately, except one. Alex, named like that after the leading character in A Clockwork Orange, had stayed exactly were he was and no matter how much the jockey on top of him kicked him, he didn’t move a single millimeter. Everyone in the team was seriously pissed. They had all invested something in the race and now it was all in the trash can just because a horse had decided to show his opinion during a very important event.

 To be fair, it wasn’t that Alex was especially bright or anything, the point was he had been well trained by his former master. Lady Claire had been only ten years old when her parents had gave her that horse as a present for her birthday. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, considering the family had strong connections with horse that went for years. They had even provided the police and the army with horses and won several contests and shows with their best stallions.

 Alex was, nevertheless, Claire’s pet. He was never supposed to run in any race or to be under scrutiny of any person ever. Yet, when he grew up and transformed into a very well formed horse, more than one person started telling Lady Claire’s father that he was wasting a great horse by letting his daughter have him just running around his premises every day. They saw how he played with the girl and how he ran when she asked for a mount and all the other instruments.

 Those men were always around the house, normally just overlooking the training process for the horses that had been specifically raised to enter competitions or to serve certain institutions. But one of them, called David Byrne, got obsessed with the idea of seeing Alex run in a real race. The man insisted daily to Claire’s father that he had to make that horse run and that he could make a lot of money with him. He also proposed him to sell the horse to him and he would be the one to train him in the best conditions possible.

 But of course, as soon as Claire heard someone wanted to take her away from her pet, she insisted to her father that he couldn’t simply take something he had given to her as a preset. The horse was hers and only Clair could be the one to decide if he ran or if he just walked around their estate. And she had no intention of selling or training Alex for anything, so the answer was always a negative one to Mr. Byrne.

 Annoyed by the fact that a girl was on his way and that her father was a man that couldn’t even control his own daughter, he decided to do what he knew most: manipulate the context. He decided to end various deals he had reached with Claire’s father, which put him in very serious problems with a lot of people, like the government and a large amount of private investors that had invested their money in the very large and modern stables in which all of the horses trained and maintained by Claire’s father lived. Although the hit was not very strong at first, it became a problem after some months.

 Byrne was a very bitter human being and he didn’t like to loose at all. He hated the idea of even stepping aside to make someone’s life easier. The moment he had the idea of making Alex his horse and making him run in various competitive events, he had decided in his head that it needed to happen and he wasn’t going to stop for details, like the horse not being his or the opposition of the real owner. Besides, he was rather accustomed to winning his arguments so he knew it was a thing of time until he had his way.

 Claire’s Father, who she called Daddy even when she got older, came to her room one day and decided to ask her for Alex in the nicest tone possible. She was already a woman, almost off to college. She visited Alex every day in the stables and treated him more like a dog than like a horse. She even had the idea of going to study to a school where she could have him around in order to make some exercise and not to loose her connection to the horse. And it was then that her father realized what he had to do: promising something he wasn’t going to do, like taking good care of the horse.

 The girl trusted her father because he was who he was. She left for college months later and once she was out of the picture, her dad attempted to deal with Byrne. The man was obviously beaming with pleasure when he received the call and he even decided to play dumb and not accept the man’s calls for a while. But he eventually went to the stables and talked to him, hearing his proposal. Claire’s father was not ready to sell the horse as, legally; the horse was his daughter’s property. However, he would let Mr. Byrne trained the horse and earn money that way.

 The man accepted. Claire’s father was very glad because it meant they could do business again and he could access all of his former clients again. The money made from the horses was very important to him and his wealth. So Alex begun training under a very harsh woman hired by Byrne, who was supposed to be one of the best in the field. She was a very harsh person and used a whip to make her results even better.

 She made Alex work a lot more than he had ever worked. Called Françoise, the woman was as big as a small horse and cracked the whip every time she thought the creature was not doing what she was asking or had been doing it wrong for a while. She made him run and jump for hours, until Alex was exhausted.

 Even the other trainers, the ones supervising the horses that would go to other owners, seemed appalled by the way Françoise treated Alex and her energy around the stables. Every single horse got quite restless when she appeared and would only calm down after a while. Alex would always respond to her arrival by kicking the wall of his small room with his hind legs. He kicked so hard, he broke the wood once and that had to be mend by Claire’s father.

 He witnessed one day how the woman did the job and was horrified by it but he didn’t say anything because it seemed Byrne was very happy with the results. Françoise stated that the horse would be ready for a race in just a month and Byrne had already booked him for three different events taking place just within days of each other.  The only thing Claire’s father did was checking his calendar and making sure his daughter wasn’t going to be around for those dates.

 He had dodged any questions about her horse for days now. He would always answer to her vaguely over the phone and change the subject abruptly to her studies and she didn’t say anything because she was grateful to her father that he had understood her choices in life and that she had chosen to study a liberal art and not the career he had always wanted for her. So she went along and never insisted on speaking about her horse or anything else really.

 The last month of training was simply brutal. Françoise cracked her whip more times in those days that in all the others days combined. Her trained was becoming so intense, that some of the stable workers decided to ask her to relax a little and let the horse rest for at least a day or she would kill him from exhaustion. But she simply cracked her whip at him and they never insisted again.

 The day of the race, Byrne and the whip women were really confident that Alex was going to win. They had run tests with him against other horses and he had won every single one of those. So there was no doubt they had a winner in their hands. So it was baffling, to say the least, when Alex stood still and didn’t budge one bit.

 What they didn’t know was that Claire had found out some days earlier about the whole thing and she had visited her pet in secret. Having spent her life with him, enable her to just tell him what he had to do when he heard the gun going off at the racetrack. She claimed her horse back after that and decided not to forgive her father for his behavior. Claire just took Alex and moved him closer to her and away from betrayal.