The House Memory

I'm in an old manor house with a friend who is about 10 years older. I have the feeling that he is the old man of the group that I'm with. We are looking around for food or anything else that may be of use. It is dark in the house perhaps it is around sunset. I'm upstairs looking around in a room on the third floor when i hear a gunshot and i hear a painful scream.

I stand at the top of the stairs so I can peer down and be sheltered from the enemy. I see an English soldier walk up and I fire at him and I see a spray of blood and a hole in the wall behind him as he rolls down the staircase. I can taste the greasy smell of gunpowder as I quickly pull back the bolt of the rifle. I feel the bolt break break and hear two pieces fall on the floor.

I hear another englishman walking up the stairs. I grab the two pieces that fell on the floor and rush into the bed chamber. I pull what is left of the bed towards the closet and I hide in the closet with the bed in front of me and I have a good line of view underneath the bed. I manually load a round into the rifle chamber and try to piece together the bolt so I will have one shot at the englishman before I grab his rifle.

As I fumble with the pieces, I tell myself that if I don't quiet down I will get bayoneted. I hear some heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs and I hear foreign words that sound English. I see no point in staying in the area that I am, if I'm going down I'm going to take them all down with me.

I peek around the corner through the door and I see an Englishman. I jump out at him firing my rifle. I hit him in the neck and He falls down to the first landing of the staircase down from where we were. I grab his rifle and I see another down at the bottom and I take a few shots at him and I see him leave. I have a sickly feeling in me and I can taste the grease from the cheap gunpowder that we use.