Personal Imaginative Coursework – Conflict

ConflictMarion had always got on with Sinead, unless Id noticed that recently things hadnt been as peachy. She was in a room, her room, flicking through old magazines. It was starting to get shadower and she hadnt yet shut the curtains.Knock knock. Silence. Knock knock.Mum?Creak. Whys it so dark in here? Im passing play disclose, Ill be back later.I state Id meet Mary at seven.Sinead went oer and pulled the curtains shut, tutting as she did so. salubrious you cant, Im going go forth.I told you earlier, I can unbosom go, were throwing The Fruit Picker, you know, the one with Bobby Clampton. Marion sat down, tucking her frame under her as she always did.I dont think so, fruitcake. I dont desire you to OK? Sinead said, facing her daughter. only you didnt articulate me you were going out and Ive already made plans.Enough. Ive said no. Sinead made an annoying furiousness on the word no with her hands like she usu completelyy did before she lost her temper.Then tell me why. Mari on was starting to get impatient but didnt want Sinead to go into one, so tried to be rational.Because Ive said so.I have no problem in doing what you say as long as you wear out me a good reason, and so far I havent seen one so I assume Im placid going out. As she said this, Marion went everyplace to Sinead, noticing a helicopter circling the sky outside.The reason is that I want you to stay home in case your father rings.No its not, you made that up. Ill be back nigh ten.Youll be here at ten because you wont be going out. Ever.What, even school? she said sarkily.Dont be a smart midget cow. Yeah, even school.Dont be stupid. You cant be serious? The worried expression on her face showed that calm compo surely wasnt the first thing on her mind at the moment.Im deadly serious. reckon you later. Sinead left the door open as she left the room and a few seconds later permit the front door slam. I knew shed be OK, so I stayed with Marion.Marion punched the bed with anger and let ou t a few reluctant sobs. She stood up jerkily and banged her head against the wall a few propagation to gather her thoughts. She stood for a moment then I followed her out of the room. I waited at the top of the steps while she went down. She came back up with a knife from the kitchen. We went back into her room. She sat down on the bed. As I stayed by the door I watched her pull up her sleeve.She put the knife to her wrist and winced. I wanted to do something but I was only there to watch. Thatll show her. she muttered. She reached over to get a tissue and sme ared some of the blood over the rest of her arm.Run BANG. BANG.Now BANG.The light was making him see in flashes, like strobing. The night was closing in on him but everything else was breaking up.As he turned the corner he tripped on a dustbin. Him and Mark had gone in opposite directions.The Brits are on our tail.Down hereVoices from all directions were clouding his mind. The sirens were deafening. All he could do was think a fatten his wife and daughter back home and know theyd be OK.It was quite a slow affect as they dragged him, with a few of the separates, into the back of the van, with the gunshots still roaring through the sky.Late at night, in the depths of the Irish countryside, a man knelt down beside his bed in a dorm, alongside many other men, some only boys, and prayed. Prayed that the Lord could give him strength to stand by his country and make him a martyr for freedom. But above all that the Lord might s complete someone to watch over his young wife and child in times when he could not be there. Because for him, knowing that divinity fudge was watching over them meant knowing that theyd be safe even when he was too distant for his eff to reach them.Many other men had prayed that night, for the next day was the day theyd first gone out and fought what would be the beginning of an even longer war. But OBriens was the prayer I heard and the prayer I answered. And when he was caught, t hen lined up and shot by a British Army police officer and it was my turn to move on, I couldnt help staying just a little longer to make sure Sinead and Marion got through it alright.A few hours later Marion was back with the magazines, the blood having crusted into a nice little scar. She heard a clunk from downstairs and quickly switched off the light and jumped into bed with her clothes still on. I went downstairs to check on Sinead. Shed got back later than she normally did.She took off her coat and hung it over the banister. She walked down the hall into the kitchen and put her keys down on the table. As she scanned the contents of the fridge, forest fruits gateau, cheese, orange juice, the call up started to ring. She shut the fridge door and picked it up after three rings.Hello?Yes, thats me.The person on the end of the receiver was too muffled for me to hear. Sinead began fiddling with the only ring on her fingers. She paled and her shoulders tensed up. Her breathing beca me modify and her chest heaved.I understand.No thank you, Ill be fine. She put down the handset and lent on the worktop for support.She stood straight and walked through the hall and up the stairs trembling. I followed closely behind.Can I deal in, darlin? her contribution didnt come out as intended, it sounded too high, false. The door opened away from us, and Marion stood, looking remarkably small. Sinead walked through and sat on the bed, her eyes were sunken and red. Marion stayed by the door too.Are you OK still? Has something happened?Come over here, love. She gestured by patting the space next to her. Marion walked slowly over, looking stiff and uncomfortable.What is it? she asked. Sinead didnt look her in the eye. She gestured again and Marion sat down.Ive just had a call from Mark. He had some news about your father.As her eyes started pricking Marion wished she hadnt turned on the light before opening the door.He was caught on a job and hes been, hes been killed.Marion lifted up her arm to wipe her eye,What on earth have you done to yourself? Sineads voice was trembling and cracking and her eyes shot with blood.Nothing. I I didnt mean to.Oh come here, my baby. And she pulled her to her, and as they some(prenominal) sat there sobbing out loud, clutching each other, I went over and put my arms round them both, gently rocking them from side to side into the night, softly singing an old Irish song my mother utilise to sing to meThe Minstrel Boy to the war is goneIn the ranks of death you will find himHis fathers brand he hath girded onAnd his wild harp slung behind himLand of Song said the warrior bardTho all the world betrays theeOne sword, at least, they rights shall guardOne faithful harp shall praise theeThe Minstrel send packing But the foemans chainCould not bring that proud soul underThe harp he lovd never spoke againFor he tore its chords asunderAnd said No chains shall sully thee kibibyte soul of love and bravryThy songs were made for t he pure and free,They shall never sound in slavery