All Quiet On The Western Front Book English 소설 & 이야기

Not now, not after everything. Lina flipped through a final set of pages in the old book, and I watched her lips move as she read the words silently. The quiet of the room seemed deafening. The sound of my breathing, the boys’ occasional shifts of weight, and the soft rustling of Lina’s pages were the only things that broke the silence.

Chapter 109: NEW ALLY. ELENA, The fading light of dusk cloaked the camp in a veil of uneasy quiet. Shadows stretched long and dark across the rocky ground, mirroring the weight settling in my chest. Every muscle ached from days of relentless tension, from running on adrenaline and fear. The scent of smoke mixed with damp earth and the faint coppery tang of blood lingered heavy in the air. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf’s howl pierced the silence, raw and mournful, as if mourning what had already been lost.

I wanted to say something else, but Winnie suddenly knelt in front of me and cried as she tugged at my trousers. “Luna, I know that you’re still angry, but the baby is innocent. You can’t just kill an innocent life like this!” Did Winnie even understand English? I frowned and wanted to pull her up, only to hear a furious roar. “Stop!” When Jake came in, he saw Winnie crying while kneeling on the floor as she talked about how the baby was innocent, and he immediately thought that I was asking her to abort the baby. He did not even think. Jake kicked my stomach, and I crashed on the floor along with the chair.

I flipped through the pages until a page got stuck under my thumb but that was not made me freeze, the words that were once unreadable by me where now clear as day. Somehow I found myself understanding every word and the strange language feeling like I’d known it my entire life. “The cold ones” I read, the words written with very bold letters, I scanned the rest of the book my eyes widening as I read most of it. “They are the one that have defied death and come back to life but not with a beating heart” I read out loud. Somehow the words translated itself in my head before coming out as English words from my heart, I don’t even understand how that was possible.

I found myself hoping and praying that everything would be fine. I sprinted my way to the place Alfonso told me, and I stopped for a while, having on my knees. Gasping, I pushed myself to breathe normally, then got up and finally heard the rushing of the waterfalls. I looked up to see the beauty in front of me, it was beautiful, but I was not in the mood to adore it and smile not until I'm sure about Alfonso's safety. [Alfonso, Please follow me and be safe... I will never feel safe without you.]

The water was clear enough for me to see every rock that covered the bottom of it, every color could be seen. "Subhanallah" I whispered as I heard birds chirping around me. The first time I talked my throat felt like sandpaper no one said a word when it came to my past, they knew it all from going through the journal that had been my only companion in the darkness I came from, I didn't say anything when Myra returned the journal to me with tears in her eyes and I looked away from the sympathetic gazes of my family.

A weathered bookshelf sagged under the weight of abandoned novels, their pages yellowed and brittle with age. "Hello? Is anyone here?" she called out, her voice echoing through the hollow emptiness. Silence greeted her, amplifying the sense of isolation that hung heavy in the air. Undeterred, Anna made her way toward the front door, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle.

'Homes for Heroes' was certainly a nice policy and an idea, but the lost generation still remained lost and still suffered all the same. 'All Quiet on the Western Front' was the work that Lila had known would be assigned to her, and she knew that she would have been able to relate to the characters and the protagonist almost immediately, her dead days taking over her, consuming her mind, and leaving her deaf, blind, and dumb. But right now, she truly did not want to do anything other than sit in front of the heater in her futile effort to try and hear her body up. It wasn't working, and she knew that it would never truly ever work on her.

I stayed where I was, staring out at the fog-draped hills, my breath ghosting in the cold air. It was strange — how war had become routine. You’d think it would feel monstrous every time. That the weight of leading men to die would get heavier. But it doesn’t. It just gets quieter. And that silence — it’s worse. I crouched, pressing a hand to the ground. The earth was damp, trembling faintly beneath my palm. Wolves in the distance howled in sync, a low rumble that rippled through the camp like a heartbeat. They were ready.

"Oh, Eleanor, you think you're so above it all, don't you? Mrs. Jackson, huh? Well, tonight, I'm going to shatter that image of yours! Let's see if Roman will still want you after he sees what a mess you've become!" I was flung onto the icy carpet of an empty room with a thud. One of the men snickered vilely as he started to unbuckle his belt. The thick smell of booze and body odor assaulted my senses. Despair washed over me like a dark, suffocating wave.