Monson Academy - Pharetra Yearbook (Monson, ME)

Page 41 text:

A Dream It is night and since I cannot sleep I have risen and have gone out into the darkness for a walk hoping to become more rest ive Suddenly a strange feeling comes over me, and I am amazed to find that I am walking along the shores of a long endless body of water studded with hundreds of lone white crags and stumps The moonlight glistens on the musky water which is mirror smooth and covered with eerie shadows thrown by the endless twisted objects within it As I gaze astonished on the lake, a sharp cold fear overwhelms me and the strange brittle silence carries a dread ful foreboding At this moment to my astonishment, I perceive directly before me two beautiful little children playing dangerously close to the bank, which descends steeply from the road to the dark depths of water below They are a little golden haired girl and a boy of about six years of age, who are obviously playing with a number of little carts As I impulsively start forward to warn them of their precarious positions, the little girl suddenly loses her balance and falls into the water below I gaze terrified at the small golden head struggling so desmnsteky to remain above the water but I am unable to move to attempt to rescue her for swimming towards her from all sides are hundreds of little ani waters daring me to invade their domain My body strains to move, but fear and cowardice paralyze my every muscle Cold streams depths bubbles nlfying of sweat pour down my body as the child sinks into the and my horrified eyes are fastened upon the large silver which continue to rise from the spot, silver bubbles slg the life which is so swiftly ebbing away, and which my cowardice prevents me from saving' Still I am unable to move, but the little boy, who has been screaming on the very edge of the water, climbs frantically towards me, tugging at my clothes, be seeching me with imploring eyes' Unable to stand it any longer I turn and run but I can still feel the child pulling at my gar ments I can still see his pitiful little face and I run until I am so exhausted that I can scarcely stagger yet still I have not gotten out of sight of the lake' I sit down there and the tears stream down my face, for I realize that I shall never get that picture out of my mind It is so deeply etched in my brain, and my cowardice is so deeply imprinted in my heart and forget fulness will never come Armande Martel '52 I Dreaded Beautiful Death I knew it was suicide when I volunteered To a Russian tank alone I was sweating and swearing battalion After bidding my friends good bye, I wrote my and turned in my valuables at H Q I was given 15 try and destroy as I left our last letter sticks of dynamite and a special attachment that set them off by pulling a pin As I wondered off to get the tank, I wondered what death was like My stomach ached and I vomited as I heard the rumble that I knew carried my death mals--their greedy little eyes--glistening red-above the inky