The car ride lasted for hours, and the hard and cold car floor and the bumpy road didn't make it any better.
There were now almost 20 kids there. At least that's what [Name] estimated they were.
The car was crowded and [Name] just wanted to go back to his mother.
He wanted to hug her.
But he knew he couldn't, and that was heartbreaking for this 11 year old child.
After a while they could feel the car come to a stop and hear big metal fence doors open.
The metal rattled and shook, catching them all off guard.
The car started moving again, and everyone was flung backward. The back of [Name]'s head hit the metal wall behind him.
The cloth hanging in front of the exit was pulled away and a man in military uniform stood behind. He gestured with his head for us to move out.
After taking a deep breath, [Name] gripped his bag harder and walked forward to the exit.
Jumping out, he was met with bright sunlight and dirt ground with multiple soldiers training and walking around everywhere. There were kids his age and older, walking behind an officer.
The kids from his car started spilling out of the car one by one. Once everyone was out and had their bags in hand, the soldier started moving. He hadn't spoken a word since they arrived.
[Name]'s eyes curiously wandered. Almost everything was new, except for the guns. He had seen them on the soldiers as they patrolled the streets when he was out with his mom once or twice.
They stopped in front of a blue barack, with the number 21 written on a metal plate, screwed on the door.
The soldier opened the door and gestured for them to go in. Everyone cautiously walked up and peeked inside. There were bunk beds lined up along the wall, and chests fastened at the foot.
"Go pick a bed and meet me outside." The soldier said. That was the first word he had uttered as long as we'd been there.
[Name] gave him a curt nod and walked in. He chose the top bunk in the right corner.
There were ten sets of bunk beds. Five on each side, and two bathrooms on either side of the door.
[Name] climbed up the ladder and dumped his bag on the bed. The other kids followed his lead and chose a bed.
[Name] had just started unpacking, when a voice spoke up from below.
"Hey! What's your name?"
[Name] ignored it and just continued unpacking the small amount of stuff he had. But the person was persistent.
"Not much of a talket? That doesn't matter! I'm Ian." The voice was smooth and a higher pitch than most male voices would have.
[Name] sighed and looked over the edge of his bed. There stood a male, a bit older than [Name] he looked to be at least 14, and had black messy hair. His eyes were yellow, but the thing that stood out mostly was his strikingly blue skin.
"Hello, you there?"
The boy known as Ian waved a hand in front of [Name]'s face, but it was soon swatted away by the said male. As [Name] continued to unpack and put his things in the chest fastened at the foot of the bed, the other boy surely had a good time keeping up the one sided conversation.
He didn't seem to mind that [Name] didn't answer.
[Name] found that kind of comforting.
At least someone is talking.
[Name] sighed as he finished packing, while Ian continued to ramble on about different types of stuff, ranging from the ride here to why owls have such weird legs.
"— but like why would they hide their legs behind all those feathers! Doesn't that hinder them from running?"
[Name] flopped down on his back and stared up at the roof. He started thinking back to his mom.
I'll never be able to see her again. Either I'll die in battle or I'll spend the rest of my life fighting in this stupid war.
"Hey! You, I never got your name." Ian's voice interrupts [Name]'s thoughts.
[Name] weighs the pros and cons of telling him his name.
We're gonna spend some time together either way.
"[Name]. [Name] Wisteria."
Ian's face morphs into shock. He never expected the male above him to answer. Soon a big smile formed on his face.
"Ian Cabot, at your service." He said with enthusiasm.
"So, how old are you?" Ian's next question came, and [Name] knew the more he answered the more questions he would get.
"11." he simply answered.
"Oh, You're pretty young. I'm 14." Ian answered. A bit of sorrow laced in his voice.
"Well I didn't exactly choose to be here." [Name] shot back as he turned to the side, to stare at the wall.
"Yeah, none of us did." Ian's voice was now pure sadness. [Name] felt kind of bad for coming off as kind of rude, but just sighed.
Soon [Name]'s eyes began to feel heavy, and as his eyes started closing he mumbled;
"Goodnight mom.."
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[A/n: Hello! This is part 2 of our dear protagonists backstory. There will be a part 3, but it will take some time. Hope you enjoyed either way :) and remember
Stay hydrated!]
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|| MY FLOWER ||
Fanfiction[Name] is a person of many talents. They vary from cooking to his skill with a gun. Early on in his life he left his home planet and put his old life behind him. He starts working at the Benbow Inn, when a nice woman saw him roaming the str...
