The Young

Chapter one

The name's Peter Thomas. Part of the Thomas family, (Obviously). And I come from a long line of nobody's. A person hidden in the shadows, never to be see-
"Peter?" I quickly glanced up from the letter I was writing, it was to my brother the one who supposedly- No scratch that, should be alive. It was a letter explaining how much I missed him, how I couldn't wait for him to come back. Alive. How it hasn't been the same without him. And so help me, if I came home from school one day, and found mom crying. Again. About another son, she has to bury without a body. I will come all the way to whatever country he is stationed in and beat the living daylight out of his ghost for leaving his family, and breaking the only promise he left him with. Everything will be okay. No, it won't because if he is gone, then I have no older father figure to look up to. No one to teach me to shave, how to act, how to... how to....
"Peter I asked you a question. Maybe you should pay attention instead of playing with useless paper." Mrs. Noterman spoke harshly.
Only I use paper any more, well me and the people that send out the death cards saying the one you love is dead. It's horrible, like using a piece of the past to emphasize that someone is gone Now paper is a symbol. Death. I know shoot me, but I can't not like it. I know it's weird but once I had gone to the old ruin that used to be a library in late 2050. It was the day that we got the letter saying Ajax was dead. I didn't remember anything besides running,  I don't know how far I had run but I didn't care, I just kept going until I couldn't go anymore. I must have fallen asleep while crying, because the next thing I remember is that I'm in the rubble of a building all crumbled, with old papers lying everywhere.
I had just woken up and started looking around, soon I started exploring. That was the day I found my favorite book - the cover was very faded and so were the pages, but I think it was called Gone with the Wind, it was over a thousand pages and I absolutely loved it - and a new hideout, when I wanted to just 'get away'.
"Sorry, Mrs." She like many other women were now widows, lost their husband in the war.  The bell rang pulling me out of my thoughts. Again. Showing it was time to go. Quickly I packed up my stuff since my next hour was math. That class was so easy, I should have been in advanced but the schools don't think students need to advance in life since the only place we're going is the battlefield.
"Class dismissed." She spoke as she was sauntering back to her desk. "Except for you Peter I have a word for you." I tried to block out the snickers that came my way as I took 'the walk of shame' to my teacher's desk.
"Yes, Mrs?" I lowered my voice trying to stay out of trouble as much as I could. I had gotten three detentions this week, and my mother would skin me alive if I got another one.
"I will not accept this kind of behavior in my class."
"Yes, Mrs." She looked almost disappointed at my answer like she was accepting more.
Mrs. Norterman paused as if to think of something else to say. "Anyways that's not what your here for me to tell you..." She looked up from the Essays she's was grading, "You have a letter." Her face dropped at that, almost as if she gave me the worst news on Earth.
Looking down The first thing I saw was the national seal on the front. At that, I knew this was the moment that my life ended.
I was going to war.
*****
I had run all the way home, not stopping even though my lungs felt like the hot embers of a burning fire.
I lived in an apartment building, fifth floor, seventh door to the right. The apartment consists of four rooms. My parents' room, now just my mothers. The kitchen, living room, and the room that my siblings and I used to share, but now just me and Emma.
"Peter is that you?" I heard my mother's voice call from the kitchen.
"Yeah, um, I- uh- have something to tell- "My voice faded out as I saw her come. She was drying off her hands, probably from just finishing washing the dishes.
"Yeah, honey? Is something wrong?" She asked seeing worry woven into my voice. Her eyes glance up suddenly widening as if they had seen a ghost when she saw the letter. The paper crinkled at my death grip. As if I hold it tight enough it would just disappear. "Is that-" She couldn't finish as tears filled her eyes.
I just looked down not wanting to see my own mother cry. Her voice rising to a higher tone, cracking as she tried to hold back sobs.  "No. No, I can't. I won't! They are not taking away another of my babies from me. Your only fifteen, for Heaven's sake! I just won't allow it. We'll just hide. They will never find us. We could just-"
"Mom." I finally looked up a tear slipping past my masked face. That one word seemed to jolt her back to reality.
"Peter!" It was as if she just snapped. Rushing towards me, forgetting completely about the towel she used to dry her hands. We must have sat there for hours sobbing into each other's shoulders, failing to comfort each other.
*****

           Dear Peter Thomas,
We are pleased to announce that you have been chosen for the privilege to participate in the war.
Please come to your local doctors' office to get a checkup to see if you are eligible to join.
Once you have accomplished this the doctor will give you the information on the directions to the training center. If you do not compile to these terms we will be forced to arrest and trial you based off of your unwillingness to oblige.
                                 Thank you
                               The U.S Army

I must have read that note a million times that night. I had no way out. They would come to get me even if I didn't come. I would leave tomorrow. This would be third son my mother will lose, the fourth loved one, the third brother.  Gone.
*****
'If only I were a superhero. Like the ones, I had read in that one burned up book at that old abandoned library. The pages were mostly charred, but I could still make a little out of the few words they held. My favorite was of a young man. He like me was on the smaller of sides. Both lacking in height. The only differences were that he wanted to join the army, and I couldn't be more reluctant. He went to war, used his brains and earned him a spot at the top. And me, well I could never do that. Schools nowadays teach us nothing, they only talk about the war. Yet maybe I could be like him, stay loyal to my country.
'Stupid! Why should you be loyal to a country that only ever brought you death?' My thoughts yelled at each other through the night. I didn't get a minute of sleep in through all of my thoughts on the war. The only idea that had remained consistent was, 'I am going to die'