~~ Writers 2000 ~~ This page is dedicated to new writers, on the eve of the new millennium. These will be the Writers of the Year 2000, for their visions will take us through the doorway into a new era. Our premier writer for this page is Matt Lawson, whose story, ďThe Awaiting of DeathĒ appears below. You may contact him through the mail link below. ďThe Awaiting of DeathĒ by Matt Lawson © Matt LawsonóAugust 31, 1999 I felt the true coldness of the north pacific water set in as my toes and legs began to become numb and just hang uselessly in the dark blue waters. I hung onto the shredded airfoil of my once brilliant and powerful Corsair fighter as much as my limp body could. The waves of the vast ocean were calm, but still made me sick upon there crests, yet I didnít have the energy to show it. I merely stared off in to the horizon where the never ending dark blue carpet and the light blue ceiling met with an extravagant ball of blaze. I never expected my life to end like this. My plane shot out of the sky by a lucky shot from a Jap. Pulled out of the sky and into the cold ocean as if God Himself had reached up and plucked off my wing. I spun into the ocean and was barely able to eject from the plane before it hit against thesolid water. In that one moment of hearing the snapping of a machine gun and the jerk of my plane as it started to be ripped apart I saw my life flash before my eyes. The ocean was accelerating at me at a tremendous speed and I was prepared to die, but I didnít. By a reaction I suppose I pulled the lever to eject my seat. I saved myself. But now I wish that I hadnít pulled that lever. I wish that I would have died in combat, with my plane. Then I could have joined my fellow soldiers in Heaven with respect and dignity. But now, Iím going to die from meaningless gestures of nature; exhaustion, starvation, sunstroke hysteria, and probably dehydration. There would be no honor and I would die meaningless and alone. What did I do to deserve this? Iím a faithful Christian. I donít commit sin of any sort. I have only recently taken up arms for my country. A country of freedom and hope. Is defending that worth the price of the fate that has been given to me? I have a wife and child to care for. Oh my wife and child, oh how I wish that I had the chance to tell them good-bye and my love for them for the last time. I was deprived even of that. I can see my wifeís face now, there in the brilliance of the sun! Her long blond hair sweeping back in the wind. Her light blue eyes glistening about in the sun, her plush light pink lips pursing and then smiling showing her rows of perfect white teeth. How I love her dearly and hopelessly. I can hear her voice now, the last thing she said to me before I went off to enlist; ďIíll wait for you my love. Whether in darkness and silence or in the light of day in a crowed of people, Iíll wait for you. No matter how long this war takes Iíll be faithful and shall wait for you on the other side. I love you,Ē If I only had that chance to tell her that I wouldnít be coming back and that I want her to move on with her life. Thatíll never happen now. Sheíll be forced to wait months after the war is over until a man in a military uniform comes to her door and hands her a neatly folded envelope. In it it tells how sorry the military and government is about how I wonít be coming back. And then a letter of compensation. Those cold hearted bastards. After what men have done for this war those who donít make it will be replaced with mere money and possessions. Cold and heartless. And my son. In the clouds that circled the sun and sky. Only six months old, he will never know who his father is. He wonít experience the joys of life with his real father. I will never teach him to read, to play, to hunt, or anything else. My life will end as his begins. Wait! what is this I see. On the horizon, in the breast of my son. Yes, I think it is, yes it is. A ship, in the distance, eight or nine miles away itís a ship. Iím saved! The Lord Almighty Iím saved! I must signal it, grab my mirror and flash it. Let it know Iím here and alive. Wait, what if itís not one of ours, but one of theirs? Itís just like those Japs to send a ship where any ally fighter pilots have gone down. That way they can capture the pilot and then torture him until he spills his guts about the ally forces, their secrets and strengths. No, I wonít give them that pleasure. Iíd rather die like this than under the sword of the samurai, the sword of the Rising Sun. I think the ship disappeared after an hour. I checked my watch, not that it really mattered. It stopped working as soon as I had ejected and hit the water. I have no idea what time it is, or how long Iíve been here, but the sky started turning bright red and orange and yellow, the colors of pure fire. All I know is that the time wonít go quick, like in the way I would have preferred to die. My eyes are failing me now. Everything was growing dark, I can barely breath now and my body was becoming cold all over, then end was coming. Even my ears were failing me. Iím hearing a buzzing noise, quiet and distant, but growing louder. I knew what it was. The sound of death, coming for me. The sound of the eagle that would swoop me off of this debris and dead ocean and take me to the sanctuary of Heaven. Now I can see it, in the dim light. The eagle is coming. Itís stiff wings jutting off from its sleek body. It was truly graceful. I can hear its powerful heart, the source of the loud hum. I see its apostle passengers, riding its back. It was almost upon me now. It lowered to the water next to me and landed on it, floating on it, showing its divine power. It edged closer to me. The apostles got off the giant beast and reached over to me and swooped up my limp body. I was ready for the divine palace, I was ready for death and what awaited me.