There he is, across the field, Samuel, my brother. He has my dull brown hair and green eyes. In his pale grey uniform he looks exactly like all the other men fighting in The War. It's technically World War Three, but everyone in the U.S. calls it The War because it is the only one that matters anymore.
I see the pain in his eyes as his eyebrows draw together and his jaw tightens. It's the same face he wears in the picture of him hanging on the wall in our house. It was taken right after he and my father were both drafted into the army to fight for three years, or in their case the one year left before America surrendered.
My peaceful brother doesn't want to be there, and I can see the hurt on his face as he shoots off round after round of bullets at the enemy. My mom used to tell me that he would get angry at people for killing a spider; I can't imagine what he's going through right now. There is blood everywhere, pooling on the ground, splashing when the soldiers step in it.
Then I hear a gunshot, louder than the rest, Sam stumbles backward, red blood blossoming on the chest of his jacket like a flower. I scream, but no one can hear me. He falls to his knees then slumps to the ground and goes slack. I hear a tank fire and the wind picks up.
And I bolt upright in bed.
----------------------------------------------
Thanks for reading! I just wanted to say that I hope you like it and please comment what you think so far.
-Allison
YOU ARE READING
When the Past Becomes the Future
FantasyThe story of a girl living in a nation decimated by a war that put progress back more than 100 years. (The title is hesitant and I'll probably change it later because I suck at titles and that is the basis I used for the story.)
