~Ethan Pearson, Class of 2024

The marching of the British are heard over the 5 AM silence,
The calm early morning April breeze is something to take in.
The battle of Lexington has yet to begin. 
Brave men from the surrounding towns have gathered on this very field,
Waiting for the sign to fire. 
Marching gets louder, 
and louder, 
and louder
Until the redcoats are only half a football field away.

Most minutemen want to go home 
and live the rest of their lives in peace
but they know that fighting for their independence, 
their freedom, 
their liberty, 
everything that makes the America we know of today so remarkable,
is much more important. 

The first shot is fired
completely out of nowhere
but no time to react for Mr. Harrington.
His only objective is to stand this Lexingtonian ground. 
Not only for himself, 
Not only for his comrades, 
But for the future of the land of the free.

As fast as the flash, 
Harrington moved his finger 
under the trigger
A single sharp shot echoed.

One down.
Many more to go.
He was a machine when it came to reloading his gun.
Spending hours each day preparing for this battle would definitely help. 

But even all of his hard work can’t stop a bullet at 
one thousand feet a second.
As it came bolting down the British barrel, 
John had no choice but to look and hope.
“AAAAAH, I’ve been hit!” He curses to himself.
But he had to keep fighting, even with that excruciating pain. 
Bang. 
Another Down.
“Men, retrea—!” Exclaimed Captain Parker.
Each footstep was a burden.
The cries of defeat could be heard all over the town.
But Mr. Harrington ran his ass off to get cover at his house 
Immediately.

Right as the padding of his shoe touched the front doorstep of his abode…
Boom. 
Dead on the spot.