Remember Who You Are - Ziam (TopZayn)

Chapter 2

On his way to war, Zayn glanced at the world hiding behind the stained window. He watched all the trees that would get burnt, all the families that would get separated, all the men that would die, and all the houses that would be abandoned. There were still little children running along the street, unaware of what was happening in the world. They were wearing dirty clothes but it was nothing compared to the life they would have to face soon. In the bus, there were a few young men, looking down and trying to hide their shiver. These were the same men that spent their days in cafes and pubs, drinking, dancing and falling in love. And now, here they were, frightened like animals in metal cages. There was the guy that served coffee to Zayn every Sunday morning, the man that lived across the street, the cab driver that always had interesting stories to tell. And all of them were headed to hell, where life would be soaked out from them.

When the bus stopped, Zayn looked around the unfamiliar area. It looked like a forest but there were numerous tents that reminded of a camping trip. A middle-aged man wearing an army suit greeted them and led them to the biggest tent in the center of the area. Other small groups were waiting outside, everyone bringing the city vibe with them, as they were still dressed casually. Some of them walked out with a uniform in their hands and others with disappointed looks. When it was finally Zayn's turn, he entered in and walked to the desk. There were a few men with the general sitting in front of the desk that was covered with papers.

- Name? - he asked coldly.

- Zayn Malik.

The way he looked up and down Zayn's body made him feel extremely nervous and judged. It seemed like the general couldn't find any strength or hope in him. But Zayn didn't come all the way just to turn back so easily and return to his normal life.

- Look, I appreciate that you want to be a part of this but I'm not impressed. I cannot call you slim but you are not that muscular either. You do not have any martial skills, and no experience connected with fight whatsoever. Most people like you would live their lives as long as the situation would allow them. Why did you even come here? - the general said.

Zayn frowned and gave the man a questioning look. He thought they would be happy to get as much help as possible.

- I'm here to save my country. I can't ignore this and pretend that things are fine. I know I do not look strong or athletic but I am capable of changing that.

The man sighed gently and rested his elbows on the desk.

- Look, that's inspiring and everything but don't you think we would also need some people alive in the cities and villages when this is over? Go home, live your youth. We don't have time to teach you everything. I'm sure you can't even hold a gun.

The general barely got to finish his last sentence, when Zayn abruptly grabbed the gun that was laying on the desk and shot a framed artwork in the furthest corner of the tent, leaning on wooden boxes. The bullet went right through the ballet dancer's forehead that was painted on the canvas. The loud sound made all the men and those waiting outside jump in fear, while the general was staring at the artwork, his mouth wide open.

- You know how to shoot? I didn't find any experience references in your document. - he exclaimed.

- No, first time touching it. - Zayn answered sharply and put the gun back.

The man sighed and grabbed a pen.

- Ok, repeat your surname. - he huffed.

Zayn smirked at his success and repeated his last name slowly, so the man could register him as a new soldier.

- But, General Cowell, are you sure? - one of the men asked.

The general looked up at Zayn with a smirk and answered his colleague.

- Yeah, I am. We could use this kind of determination. Be careful there, son. - he said and let Zayn receive his uniform and leave the tent.

     After getting directions to the place he would be staying at, he headed there. There were a few young men around his age, all of them wearing the gloomy green clothes with their surnames sewed on the top. One of them was busy sharpening his pocket knife. If he noticed the guy anywhere else, he would never think of him having a pocket knife or anything dangerous, as the unknown lad looked too kind and soft for that. His curly hair covered his forehead, as he concentrated on his small mission. Zayn walked to him, seeing that the others were talking to each other. He greeted politely, causing the other lad look up at him. He smiled and offered his hand. As they shook hands the boy stood up and that's when Zayn noticed how tall he actually was. He introduced his name shyly and waited for the other one to do the same.

- I'm Harry. I've been here for a month or so. Are you a newcomer? - the tall guy asked.

     Zayn nodded and told him how he got there, as they sat down, Harry immediately getting back to sharpening his knife. He listened carefully and asked Zayn about his life, his parents, his fiancé and everything that he left behind. Zayn gave short answers and listened to Harry's story. Turned out he was a philosophy professors at of the best London universities. But other than that, he didn't have many things to regret leaving. His parents passed away long ago, he never got married and was single at the moment. The only thing that kept him sad was leaving his friends, as some of them refused to join the war voluntarily.

     They were still talking about their families, when a young man ran to Harry, trying to catch his breath.

- Styles, you won't believe what happened today at the main tent. There was this guy, who wanted to join us and General Cowell wanted to decline him and said that he's weak and stuff. So, he took Cowell's personal gun and shot his wife's painting. - he said quickly.

     Harry chuckled and looked at Zayn, who was avoiding his eyes.

- I know, Ni. This is Zayn, the guy you were talking about. - Harry introduced and nodded in his new friend's direction.

- It's you? Man, you're like the newest legend here! I'm Niall, by the way. - Niall exclaimed and shook the tanned man's hand.

- Thank you? And what do you mean I shot his wife's painting? - Zayn asked nervously.

     Niall burst out laughing, bringing the other soldiers' attention to their small group.

- The ballet dancer is Cowell's wife. He brought it here, so he wouldn't miss her too much. - Harry answered, laughing at Zayn's actions.

     Zayn wanted to bang his head on a wall so hard at that moment. Or he'd better somehow find a time machine and change his mistake.

- Wow! What a great start. - he muttered sarcastically.