End
June 7, 1916
It’s been about a month since we destroyed the rebel base in Ireland. We diminished the rebellion and went back to England where I am writing now. I was really looking forward to leaving the British Military and living a new life perhaps as a doctor since the fighting was more than I could handle. Now I’m here. I’ve left the military and tried to become a doctor, but my hands are far too battle scarred to function with the stability one would require to obtain such high position in society. I’ve been in a quiet state of melancholy since my mother died two weeks ago. After the revolution, my life has been on a downward spiral with my British comrades being killed in battle, and quite possibly never finding love. I planned my life on losing my virginity and having a family that I could come home to. I have always wanted to be a father, so I could tell my countless stories of war to my kids and so that I could teach life skills that they wouldn’t learn from anyone else. Never have I been more truly alone.
June 8, 1916
Another gloomy day in England. I woke up to the disgusting smell of rain and more clouds in the sky. The sun was nowhere in sight and I could hear people arguing next door. I decided that life was pointless and I was tired of my gloomy, dry, sucked up life. I got a rope from my closet that I was planning to use, eventually. I tied a noose, one side over the other and strapped it around my neck. This is my final entry.
It’s been about a month since we destroyed the rebel base in Ireland. We diminished the rebellion and went back to England where I am writing now. I was really looking forward to leaving the British Military and living a new life perhaps as a doctor since the fighting was more than I could handle. Now I’m here. I’ve left the military and tried to become a doctor, but my hands are far too battle scarred to function with the stability one would require to obtain such high position in society. I’ve been in a quiet state of melancholy since my mother died two weeks ago. After the revolution, my life has been on a downward spiral with my British comrades being killed in battle, and quite possibly never finding love. I planned my life on losing my virginity and having a family that I could come home to. I have always wanted to be a father, so I could tell my countless stories of war to my kids and so that I could teach life skills that they wouldn’t learn from anyone else. Never have I been more truly alone.
June 8, 1916
Another gloomy day in England. I woke up to the disgusting smell of rain and more clouds in the sky. The sun was nowhere in sight and I could hear people arguing next door. I decided that life was pointless and I was tired of my gloomy, dry, sucked up life. I got a rope from my closet that I was planning to use, eventually. I tied a noose, one side over the other and strapped it around my neck. This is my final entry.
Authors: June 7th - Diego Diaz. June 8th- Jeremy Ong