Day XXX, Month XXX, Year XXX
I'm tired. I'm exhausted.
As I sit here in the creeping darkness of approaching midnight, I'm wondering why I put pen to paper at this time of night, knowing that in the morning I would have to wake up early and fight across the battlefield.
In America, our nation has fallen. Every corner of the street may hold a new attacker lurking, or a gun triggered to cast whoever unlucky enough to walk in there into the depths of hell before reliquishing to death.
Attacked by unnamed people. These beings weren't exactly human- they were our future-generation, so to speak. Imroved machinery and weapons, along with intelligence (oh, how I would pay for that in our society today) and armory. Alice took a risky jump before dubbing them as human as well, just much further in the future. Like, 6,000 years or so. I believe that's what she said.
Alice is the 'smart' one in our group. Yes, we actually had brains that didn't resemble ones of half-dead worms, but we could act recklessly. She's the computer one, the one with the highest IQ (I actually didn't test for that, I think she said she had 170...), the one who plans our strategy for the day, along with making our gadgets.
Heh. That makes us sound like spies.
Nope. We're twenty-year olds. Gerald's our youngest at twenty.
Every day was the same goal. Live. Out of us five, none of us have been killed yet. As of for the other people helping us fight...I could say otherwise.
It's a tough world nowadays. Itaty's been bombed to the point where it's isolated, and several parts of Asia been reduced to an endless terrain with no humanity for endless miles. Or kilometers.
We have kids fighting in here. Kids, for God's sake. I was shooting a gun next to a seven-year-old child.
He died soon after. He was shot in the head.
Our numbers are decreasing greatly while our enemy remains untouched...well, compared to us.
My name's Casper Dalles. I'm not gonna bore you with details, like some cliché intro or something like that. I'm a gunner in this war, along with my twin brother, Mo.
Usually, a war is written by the winners. But I intend to keep this. Even after I die (which is very likely), Mo knows about this. He'll keep writing, hopefully. After Mo dies, Lynn's taking it up (that is, if she didn't die before that..), then Gerald, then Alice.
At least one of us will come out of this war alive, and won't allow our history to be tarnished to the point where all it is is lies with slivers of the truth in them.
It's nearly one o'clock. I should probably get to bed, Mo's stirring. He might write in this too, so don't get alarmed if he writes too- I'm not gonna die that quickly.
Casper Dalles
A/N~
An idea popped into my head, so..yeah. Casper and Mo might get their stories!
I'm debating over the name- either Discord Bullet or Bullet of Discord. What do you think? pLeAsE aNsWeR
Well. Just..yeah. Tear this piece apart.
YOU ARE READING
Hidden Meanings
RandomContains: One-shots, shippings, rough drafts, notes, and former writings. NOTICE: At some point in the middle, I had this thing where I switched between present and past, had no space after a period, or a quotation mark. Please excuse it, I shall ed...
