The Centauran Wars.

From the city to the frountlines.

7th of August 1910.

I sit with my friend. Henry Doyle. A nice fella.

He drinks some coffee and looks at me

"Jacob. Any girlfriend yet?" He says.

"No."

"Cmon. I mean, you should at least get a prostitute if you wanna feel a girl, " He says.

"That's even worse," I respond.

"When we're you Born again jacob," He says

"1891. I'm nineteen." I say.

"So you're old enough to drink." He says.

"I'm trying to stay fit, henry," I say.

"Cmon. Nothing wrong with a few drinks and some misses." Henry says.

"I got to go home soon," I say.

"I'll pay. I'll go talk to that lady over there too, " He says as he points to a group of ladies at the bar.

".. I won't even ask which one." I say.

"Any of them. Yknow, I'm not picky, " henry says as he smiles and fixes his hat.

"Take care," I say to him

"You too," He responds.

I get up and start walking. A few minutes later, I make it home and walk through the door. My brother calls me as I walk in. "Jacob! Is that you?"

"It's me, William. I say as I hang my coat and hat."

My little brother. He's 14 years old. He comes to me and hugs me. I hug him back and go to the kitchen. "You ate anything," I ask him.

"Some cookies. That's about it." He says.

"Mom's about to be home. She'll make you something." I say.

"Alright." He says as he runs to his room and goes to draw.

About 2 hours pass. Mom came home 30 minutes ago. She calls us down to come eat "thanks mom" I say.

I listen to the radio as it plays. I drink my tea and listen to the man speaking.

"Corvun attacks have been surrounding allied camps. These attacks are becoming more frequent as our forces fall back to hold the line once more. Even with this situation, do not forget what we built this nation on. Do not forget the blood, sweat, and tears that our brothers and sisters have shed for this nation. And while you sit at home drinking your coffee, do not forget that our brothers are fighting for YOUR freedom." The man on the radio says

I look at my mom as she washes dishes. "Did you hear the radio, mom?" I say.

"Don't let your food get cold." She says.

"..mom. they.. might need me." I say.

"I don't care for this war. I care for you. I'm not losing my son." She says harshly.

I look down at my food. And sigh as I eat my food.

The next day. 11pm.

I walk with James. A good friend of mine as he smokes a cigarette "so you wanna join the war? Hell, I heard it's at its worst right now." James said

"Why not." I say.

"Hey. There's nothing wrong about it. I'm thinking about it too." He says.

"How's henry?" I ask

"Extremely hungover." James responds.

"I see," I say quietly.

James grabs my shoulder and smiles. "Let's go eat something." He says.

I nod in agreement.

Three days later, I volunteer for the army.

Two weeks have passed. I didn't get much training.

I look at my little brother as I hug him. I stand up to look at my mother, but she ignores me. She looks down on the ground as she holds back tears.

"Mom.." I say as I try to approach her.

"Just go. Don't die on me, Jacob.. I've already lost your father."

I look at her in silence and nod.

"I'll try not to," I say.

My little brother looks at me and smiles as he tugs at my uniform.

"I wanna be like you one day. Promise you'll tell me stories when you're back?" He asks as he smiles at me.

"Promise," i say.

I kiss my mother goodbye. And hug my brother for the last time. I hold back tears as I do.

Then I walk out of the house. I look at the sky. At the city. At the cars at the people. At the girls and at the mothers and fathers. I look at the couples on the street.

And I smile, knowing I'm fighting for them.

But a part of me ask.

Are you gonna live long enough to even have a child.

I ignore it. And days later, I find myself in a cetan uniform. On a truck. Heading to Capri Valley.

Some people on the truck told me they call this front gridlock. When I asked why they only said.

"You're about to find out,"

Dread fills my heart as I watch the landscape change from the beautiful lush and green land. To a dark. Muddy and dirty terrain.

We get off the trucks. I look down at the trenches. And then look back up.

It isn't a great war for honor. Or one for glory. There's no people cheering on the sidelines. There's no girls waiting for us.

There's death. Blood. Mud. And despair.

And as I look at this all. The only thing that comes to my head is.

What have I done.