Giving Up On Stars...

Chapter 1. Rosaline

Chapter 1
Rosaline

The sound of the baker's usual song rouses me to my consciousness. I stretch out and force my tired eyes to open. The sun is streaming through my curtains. I slowly sit up and stare out of the window, watching Cathiopia wake up. Cathiopia is not a person, it's a country. Part of a 3 country continent. Unfortunately, I was born in the worst possible decade. Cathiopia, Enthropea and Lerapia - the other countries in the continent - are currently at war, and all residents aged 16-30 are roped into it. So that includes me and my brother Tal. Our Mayor, Jansidie Hope, protested for no war at all to protect the beautiful land of Cathiopia, but everyone knows that it's just to protect tourist income. Anyway he lost vote and we're having the war regardless. Mayor Augustus Witherby of Enthropea wants the other countries to be under Ethropean rule and tourist income directly goes to him, typical. My mother grew up with him. He used to live in Cathiopia actually quite near where we live. She said he always liked attention - always created a fuss out of nothing. When I say Mayor, I mean prime minister or president really. But they call themselves the mayors to calm the residents of all three countries. The countries had a revolution about 50 years back because the rulers at the time controlled everyone's life in so much detail that sparks started to fly, plans unveiled and fighting started. So to keep them in order they introduced the mayors, but I don't see how I makes a difference. We are still restricted to do what we want, be who we want with a consequence of a firing squad.
An ache in my head drives me to tuck myself neatly back in bed. I remember.
Today is the first day of intense war training, oh joy. Tal and I went to the local pub last night to take our minds off death.
My door creeps open and Tal pokes his head round the door; he looks shattered.
"You up yet, Rosaline?"
I grunt as if to say 'just about'.
"Feeling rough?" He asks, opening my curtains and almost blinding me. "You were almost as drunk as Pa on pub quiz night!"
I laugh as I picture Pa vomiting in the bushes outside the pub entrance, shouting answers to unasked pub questions.
"Did I vomit?"
Tal nods, his face draining of it's colour.
"There were gallons of it." He turns to walk out the door when he says "breakfast on the table, then just get into scruffs. Pa says they'll give us fancy uniform when we get there."
I slowly sit up again, my eyes adjusting to the light. As I stand up I get a light head rush, followed by a pounding headache.
I reach for a plain white t-shirt and my corduroy trousers, throwing a zip up fleece over the top. I can feel the butterflies churning in my stomach, as well as a hangover causing every bone in my body to ache.
Downstairs, Tal has arranged a range of jams in a pyramid next to a tray-full of buttery toast.
"Ta da!" He says with a big grin on his face. "Thought it would lighten the mood."
"Thanks Tal." I laugh, sitting down and tucking into the tray of oozing toast and applying a thick layer of raspberry jam.
But nothing can wipe away the lingering despair of being roped into a war you don't want to be in anyway.