War ⇔ Cashton ✓

Panic

ASHTON

My entire life is a war. Everything about it is filled with gore and bullets and broken bones. I'm struggling against the war on the battlefield, and I'm struggling against the one in my mind. I'm not a strong person. I'm not, I have accepted this. They build you up to believe that you are in training, just so that you can go in with a fresh heart before it wilts inside your chest. But once you step foot into what it's like around so many people made like steel, it is impossible not to let it tear you down. You just have to let yourself melt at the mercy of the cacophonous sun.

Sometimes, I wonder what everyone is thinking at home. Do they wonder how everything is doing here at war? Do they pay much attention to it at all? I know my mother must be worried sick, due to the loss of her two children and her husband. I am all she has left, and now I am letting the poison flood my veins without a care. I now Calum is worried. He is always worried, always nervous, always wringing his perfect little hands at the idea of my body being thrown into a ditch like the others. He is too perfect to worry for someone like me. I am just a mess of scarred fingertips of bruising bones. I am no one to care about. I have accepted that, yet, the small tan boy at home with the grey sweaters bleeds out his heart for me.

Michael, Luke and I are sitting with our backs against a rough building, the texture of the wall rubbing blisters into our scarred backs. There is a particularly large tree beside us, which we gladly took advantage of as we relaxed under its heavenly shade. The sun hardly ceased to burn the earth during the night, and I almost wanted to shed my clothes deep into the night when the heat wouldn't stop. We are watching everyone around us in the bright new morning. I haven't seen the little boy since last night, but there are plenty of civilians. They all look tired, marked with dust and grief. Their gazes no longer look at us with fear, but instead they look at us with slight annoyance, due to our large bodies being scattered around their peaceful town. They all aer working hard, carrying jugs of water to different parts of the town and helping children wash their feet in mucky water. I am watching a woman carry a woven basket full of bruised fruit when we hear the familiar sound of tires rolling over gravel.

This is new, considering no lieutenants were supposed to come pick us up for several days, enough time to get my stitches out and get my energy back up before I had to run out onto the battlefield. I had heard rumor around that they war is supposed to be ending soon, and that makes me want to cry with relief. The rumor could simply be dismissed quickly as incorrect, but hope is the only thing I like to hold on to. I like the idea of going back home soon, letting Calum fall into my arms and giving my anxious mother a kiss on the cheek. I want this to happen, but it very well might be destroyed in the ruins of a grenade.

We all leap to our feet, boots scraping against dust, and we shield our eyes from the overpowering sun above to see the huge black car, built like a jeep, halt directly beside us. It is full of soldiers, their pale skin reflecting off the light as their faces turn to look at us. A lieutenant leaps out of the front and rushes over to us, not hesitating to scream in our faces.

"Come on, now!" his voice shouts. The three of us shuffle forward, grabbing our guns and fumbling with them to make sure they are set as we hurriedly run over to the car. Dust kicks up from behind our boots as we grip the edge of the car, avoiding asking any questions. We know from experience that they won't be answered anytime soon, if ever. We pull ourselves over the side and sit on the back ledge, facing the long stretch of land behind us. I hear Michael frantically whisper to one of the boys sitting inside the car.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Night raid. They struck a night raid last night. From what I heard, it was terrible. We lost so many men." The boy answers, his brown eyes flickering over to our three frightened faces. "I think they need us out there because it's still going on. We're losing defenses."