The Battle of Antietam

As the radiant red sun of the morning rises over the horizon I awake from my deep sleep. As the light puddles in from the great outdoors I take in this beautiful morning that is now upon me. Today is September 17th, 1862, which means today I go to Antietam Creek in hope of catching tonight’s supper. Although I live in Sharpsburg Maryland the creak is not far away from my house. I follow the usual morning schedule and set out with my reed pole that my father made for me, and worms I gathered last night. Stepping into the cool brisk air I can see a crisp frost for miles on end silently sitting on the blades of grass.
After I finally reach the crystal clear creek I cast my line into the water and wait for a bite from a fishing passing through. Although instead of a bite from a fish I see 60,000 Union Troops under the command of General George McClellan camouflaged into the fields and woods surrounding me. Realizing this I immediately become shocked and terrified, as I instantly freeze in my tracks. My task is now to figure out how to get out of this situation, without getting becoming tangled up between the North and the South. When I realize that I will have to run through the battle field that Robert E. Lee’s 30,000 are located in to get home safely, I decide to say low to the ground and as far away from the battle field as I can. Not a shot has been fired yet, but the electricity in the air is becoming more and more tense every minute that passes by. All of a sudden I see the Union cannons sending cannon balls at the confederate soldiers, which surprised the confederates more than the colonies gaining their independence from Great Britain.
In the midst of all fighting I saw a glimpse of General McClellan looking at General Lee’s battle plans that he had received from one of his scouts. Some of the tactics that these two generals were trying to pull off worked about as good as a three year old trying to blow up a church; they were bound for failure. The mistakes came in bunches and dead bodies were littered all over the battle field as well as in the woods. In gazing over the battle field every one in four soldiers were either dead or limping their way to somewhere they would be safe, screaming in pain. More of the men laying in pain and agony of the ground where Union soldiers, but the confederates has lost a bigger percentage of their men that my eyes could see.
As the deaths stack up and the fight moves closer and closer to the river I realize that I have to figure out a way to get out of here, or die. In my mind I become panicked and my adrenalin starts flowing through my body faster than river rapids on the Mississippi. The field would be impossible; through the woods would be hopeless. How am I going to escape… THE RIVER. Realizing this was like a 100 pound sack being lifted off my back. In the heat of battle I don’t have much time to react though. I don’t want to end up like one of the casualties that are on the battle field helplessly. Into the water I go and the water it is like ice on my bones, even though the light frost on the ground has melted away. To see that I am only half way across the river is very discouraging because my muscles are already starting to numb up and become stiff to the touch. Every inch I get closer shore it become more of a struggle to move my arms and legs, even minor movement sends chills down my spine. As my finger finally reaches hard ground I rip my clothes of, before they freeze around my scrawny 6 foot, 145 pound, and 13 year old body. Instantly I sprint home as if my hair was on fire. Nothing on my body is warm and as I slam the door open I sprint into my bedroom and jump on my bed, nearly killing myself because the straw is years old. All of a sudden my eyes shut and my breathes get slower and slower, as I fall into a deep sleep.