Drafted

April 15th, 1871

We went to the next town and it would seem that our plan had worked. We were now safe. While we were there, we warned them of what had happened to us, and that they were heading this way. But they didn't believe us and soon enough just as we had predicted, they had come to raid the town.

When it happened, we were separated from each other. Margo and I had hidden in an abandoned building while Mario took the baby with him to go and get food. Mario came running back telling us that the English had come. We tried our best to get away, but ran into a soldier along the way. Mario however, managed to get away with the baby. As for me and my twin, they gassed us so we'd fall asleep.

April 16th, 1871

I woke up in a dark room. The room was only lite by a candle. My brother and I were both tied to a wooden chair, back to back to each other. We were tied by our hands and bond by our feet to the legs of the chair. I felt dizzy as I began to come back to my senses. To my left was a steel door, where a man stood on each side of the door, armed with pistols. They kept their arms crossed.

On the other side of me, there was a desk, a man sitting there, talking with another man who was standing on his left side. The one who was standing seemed to be the one that had captured us. He wore a dark dingy green uniform. His medals of armor shined in what little light was in the room.

I finally was able to catch sight of the man at the desk. He was surrounded by paperwork. "Are these the ones we've been looking for?"

"Yes, sir." the man said to his superior. My brother was just then beginning to wake up.

"Ah, boys." he said to us, a bit of a grin on his face. I still couldn't make out his face. I really only saw his silhouette. As he stood up, I saw that he had on a superiors outfit, of course then I didn't know what rank he was. But later knowledge told me that he was a General. But his army uniform was black instead of green. He stepped closer to our chair, Margo still waking up, yawning loudly.

"The Scottish settlers." he said in his English accent.

"We're Irish." Margo corrected as he scratched his head. The General was now close enough that I could see his face. He had short brown hair that was slicked back. He was skinny, but he was more of a stocky man and his eyes were brown. He held his hands behind his back.

"Anyway," the General said. "I'm Russel. Russel M. Skrete."

"Why are we here?" I asked, afraid for my life.

"You are about to be recruited into the army." he smiled. "But really, I should be asking you the same question." he said raising his eyebrow. "You two boys are from the prophecy."

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"Well boys," he started. "You two are the main ones I wanted to get my hands on. You two are to fight great wars for England."

"Wait a minute." Margo said. "England? We're not even English, we're Irish."

"I know that boy." the General said, stopping his pacing in front of us and looking Margo's way. He then started back pacing after giving him a mean look. "But not much can be explained now. You'll learn as you get older." He took out his dagger, and cut the rope on us to let us free of the ropes and chairs. "Go ahead and stand up." We stood up, stretching from the cramped chair.

" Go to floor SL7." he said. "They'll assign you your rooms and your uniforms." The men guarding the door opened it, and we walked out. "Have a swell afternoon boys." he said grinning, as the men shut the door, letting a gust of air blow on us, and releasing a loud boom.

It was still cloudy and bright outside. The halls were long and dark, and they were made of dark gray big bricks. The walls had huge openings, big enough that many families could look through at the same time. Outside the building I could hear war cries far off into the distance because the land was desolate and seemed to be dry.

"Let's go, ummm, I guess upstairs?" Margo said scratching his head.

"Um yeah." I responded back to him. Margo walked down the hall to the right and went up the stairs. Q was the next floor, so we continued on. The next was R, then S was the floor that we stooped at. Now to look for SL7. Me and my brother turned right. We walked on until we passed an opening in the wall on our right side. It was sort of like a store. A young man stood behind the stone counter, packing away what seemed to be uniforms that we were looking for. Margo cleared his throat top get the man's attention.

The man then looked our way over his right shoulder, still putting away surplus clothing. "Oh just a minute lads." he said in an Irish accent. "Just putting some things away. But what are you lads sizes while I'm back here?" Margo and I told him our sizes, and he grabbed two army shirts, two army shirts, two belts, and two pairs of boots. Then he reached under the counter, grabbing two army helmets."You'll get your guns later." He closed the compartments holding the clothes.

"Why are they doing this to us?" I questioned as I grabbed my clothes off of the counter. Margo then grabbed his clothes as the young man leaned over the counter to talk to us.

"Because they can." he answered with a sad look upon his face. "They killed my family and took me, and now, sadly to say, I'm being drafted to England's army. I just work here for now." He paused for a second and then said, "By the way, they call me Connor. I mean hey," he started as he hopped over the counter, " All us Irish need each other right?"

"Right." I responded in approval. "You know where we supposed to be staying?"

"Yeah." Connor said. "My brother Conan has been there and told me all about it. I've been there to get him home even. This is when it was nothing but a boot camp though. He was probably about your age, and I was only ten years old. It's a horrid place underground, where there is no light. The only light you see is from the short basement windows, that there's no escaping from because of the jail bar windows. Candles were at least lite so you could see what you were doing. Out there is a lot of fighting and war-ing going on. And if you don't do as your told, you're tortured until you do right, which wouldn't be long because if you're smart, you won't even let it carry on that far. And now that my brother is out of that horrid place, he's been put into the war. Put to war against our own people." I gulped.

"But why?" I said. "Why do they want us to fight with them against our own people."

"They want us to be those blood-thirsty creatures like they are." Connor said. "The kind that kills their own families, their own children. They're trying to desensitize us to the point where we'll no longer succumb to the authority of God."

"Is there any way out of this hell?" Margo asked.

"No." Connor said. " The only way out is death." Margo and I gulped once more.

"We'll be fine." I tried to convince myself. "I mean that General acted as if we were supposed to become something great."

"Really?" Connor questioned. "He's been telling every Irish that walks in here the same thing. Matter of fact, he told me the same thing. I don't know about my brother, but he told me that we'd be training underground at N.A.D.O."

"N.A.D.O.?" I asked. "What's that?"

"That horrid place I just told you about." Connor answered back. I gave out a big sigh.

"Well I guess that's the end of that." I said. "Anyways, what are we supposed to be doing all day?" I said trying to get off of the subject.

"Probably nothing." Connor said. "Might as well find your rooms. Your rooms should be with your clothes, like a note."

"Alright." I said.

"Well, I have to go." Connor said. "I"ll catch you two later." As he walked off, he asked us "What are you lads names by the way?"

"Marco." I said.

"Margo." my brother said.

"Well nice meeting you guys." he said as he went off down the hall.

That night, my brother and I went to our rooms. Both of our rooms were on floor SL18, one of the top floors, where guards were even more at work than the other floors at keeping the Irish from getting away. My brother and I had separate rooms. I was in room 488 and my brother was in room 500 down the hall.

I sat in my room lite by a candle which was laying on my night table, flickering about as I said my prayers in the tiny room. After I said my prayers, I put out the candle, and drifted off to sleep.