Refinement: A War of Europe

Chapter Thirty-Six: West: Bulls-eye

So, guys. I made a MAJOR mistake as far as Gabriel's timeline goes. With the way that I wrote it, he is supposed to be three years old. Yeah, that didn't happen. So, I have decided to change it to he was already born when Eloise's mom Grace married Eloise's step dad. Like Helen. SO, yeah. Sorry for the confusion! ~M

~~~

Eloise~ West (England)

"You got a tattoo." He stared at my arm. "What does it mean?" I put my arm to my side. I didn't realize how much I had changed since I left home. Not only my physical appearance, but also my whole life.

I was a soldier.

"How far are you into Inauguration?" He pointed at the number under his jaw. 3876. It was surrounded by pink and raw skin. It was new.

"We just got 'the talk'." He said with amusement. "I am just coming back from getting this." I frowned at the things that he would have to encounter. I frowned at the pain, the strain, and the terrible horror that was in his new future. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MADE IT THROUGH! They told me how you made it through the Trepidation Quarters! Awesome," I shook my head.

"Not awesome. Gabriel, please, you have to take this seriously-"

"They didn't tell you, did they?" He ran his hand through his blond hair. "I volunteered, Eloise." My chest rang with terror. I remembered how much harder it was for Olly since she volunteered. There were bullies, and the trainers looked to make her life harder because she did so.

"Okay, Gabriel, do everything I say, in Physical Abilities-"

"ELOISE?!" I sighed exhaustedly. I turned around again, and saw Grayson incredibly flustered.

"That is the guy who gave us Orientation! You KNOW him!?" Gabriel asked behind me.

"What is wrong, Grayson?" He looked like I had never seen him before. I hadn't seen this much emotion coming from him since, well, since the kiss. He took Jasper.

"It is mom," His voice cracked.

The next few minutes, I can barely remember. All I remember is Grayson's fear raw in my ears, and my fear channeling through my legs. My feet pounded the concrete, moving my body faster than I had ever run before. My heart beat was pounding to the rhythm of the sound that my feet made, the screaming of the ground, as my feet attacked it in fear. My hair fell into my eyes. There was no time to throw it from my eyes, so I continued blindly to the Infirmary. I burst through the doors, and was greeted with deafening screams.

"Doctor, what is wrong?!" I shouted. Lieutenant Polly lay on her bed, her face decorated with beads of sweat. Her eyes were squeezed shut, as if someone was trying to kill her. Her hands were clasped tightly around Mr. Lewis' hand. She was crying. This, the woman had taken down an army in one night, was crying.

"She- she is having a miscarriage." My whole world stopped. There was nothing for five seconds.

I walked out of the white door, wanting to escape from the pain, and the sadness that was so heavy in the air. But it followed me. I walked back to my room, my feet dragging with every step. Grayson sat on my bed. His hands covering his face, and pulling his hair at the same time. I couldn't tell if he had been crying.

"Jasper is with Olly. I placed her with a soldier who helps out in the infirmary when she is off duty. That is what Olly will do." It was hard to be happy for her.

It is so hard to be happy anymore. When so many people are sad, it seems insulting to laugh. It seems incredibly shallow to smile, or be happy for someone. Why should I giggle, when someone is mourning? Humans are ants. Ants are so happy to find food, but they don't see the death in the carcass they are picking away at. Humans are so agonizingly small.

I sat beside Grayson, scared the bed would give in to the 300 pounds it held. It squeaked and squealed, but it held. His face was still in his hands.

"They were so excited. Obnoxiously so. Don't think that I am mourning for my own sake, Eloise Tyler." I closed my eyes and sighed. Giving in to the silence that surrounded the room.

"I know, Grayson Lewis. I know."

"Tomorrow you are helping out with the guns booth in weapons. My mum will obviously not be able to do so, and she taught you, so-"

"I am not very good at that!"

"You may not be able to do a push up, but you sure as heck can shoot. It is the only thing physical you can do. So, I would be pleased if you did not object to my order. Thank you." He stood, and lugged over to his bed. Fully clothed, he fell asleep. I borrowed one of his books, an ancient one. It was labeled, "Return Of The King". The story was brilliant, with characters that had the depth of a person. The characters and the scenery leaped from the page, embracing and protecting me from the world and all of its pain.

~~~

"You are dismissed." I had drowned out most of Grayson's 'Weapons are a necessity of war" speech, staring at the table of handguns before me. I loaded the guns, and cocked them. My fingers were blistered from washing dishes that morning, until Grayson summoned me. I tried my best to not look at the kids and sort them in to the "they are definitely going to live" or the "poor child, they'll die off quickly" groups. Because that was morbid. I wasn't morbid.

That was a lie. Refinement thrived off of turning the innocent into mormid little soldiers.

"Can you teach me?" I nodded, and smiled. The boy was about fifteen, his strawberry blond hair sweeping over his brow. He had bright green eyes, and his face was sprinkled with freckles that swarmed over his nose and cheeks.

"Hold it like so- careful- CAREFUL! Yeah, you shouldn't point it at me. Keep both eyes open, one step back, whole body tensed- SHOOT!" The bullet catapulted itself into the second ring from the top. Not bad for a start. He smiled to himself, obviously proud of himself for hitting the target.

"Good, good. Now, try again, this time use this finger as a crutch. If you point it to your target, and shoot, I bet you'll get a bulls-eye. Oh, what's your name?"

"Jason. I know your name. I am Gabriel's friend. He is really proud of you." He grinned, and pulled the trigger.

Bulls-eye.