(6)
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Six days. Six days until I go off to war. I might be- no, I will be okay. I mean, I don’t have that much training, but who needs training to pull the trigger of a gun? It’s easy. I sat in front of my window, staring out, and just thinking. This is a dream, right? Just a lousy, lousy dream. One of those dreams that seem kinda real but aren’t. I hear a light knock at the door. I try (and fail) to mentally prepare myself to speak to one of my parents. My father walks in slow and hesitant.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQo6B6ofwHf
- Hello, son. He said.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ35lf9G9hUM
- Hey, dad. I said, no hint of joy at all.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡloa939ciBR
- You look…not right. He said, squinting.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9D9JqJnGw6
- Meaning…?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC5TvWdGvrv
- You look upset. What’s going on?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡogDuSMc1Hr
- Well, I-
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I cut off my sentence as I realized that he probably doesn’t care. If I tell him that I’m scared to go off to war, he’ll be mad or just tell me to “be a man”, or whatever. I sighed.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvvTjmikdxv
- N-nothing.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCEpyRp26KP
- Nothing? He said, skeptical.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt7TIespNPw
- Yeah. Nothing.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGn7tcTY7tk
- Is it…is it about the war?
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I didn’t say anything. I just stayed quiet. He nodded, understanding what I was feeling. He sat down beside me.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZZdsTjzzVS
- I know how it feels, kid. There’s an endless, excruciating fear inside of you, that’s trying to eat its way further and further down. It’s trying to influence itself on you so that you just become this big ball of insecurity. You’re even just afraid of being afraid. You’re scared of things you’ve never been scared of before, just because this little fear monster inside of you is imprinting itself all over. Am I wrong?
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I looked at him. He was exactly right.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGfosTiOwkp
- I know the feeling, James. I fought in the first world war when I was about your age. It was terrifying. I had lost all confidence and I kept shaking like a leaf. I felt completely out of place. But you, James, don’t have to be that! You can be a brave man. Unlike me. He smiled, putting his hand on my shoulder.
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I was just concerned that his description of “not being a man” is being scared. I’m about to fight in a world war full of blood, trauma, violence, and death. It should be okay to be scared. I mean, I should be allowed to be scared without losing my manhood. It’s fine, right? Millions of men are scared. It’s not just me. It’s not like I’m actually scared of losing my manhood (that would be ridiculous) but I just want to make sure that what I’m feeling is normal. My dad made it seem like he was the odd one out because he was scared, and it was ridiculous that he was. There were a lot of survivors in the first world war. Maybe I’ll survive this one too. It’ll be fine. Everything will be alright. Do you ever start thinking of something and then lose your train of thought? That kind of happened to me just now. That happened because so many things are on my mind right now. I just can’t believe that I’m about to die. Or maybe not die. I don’t know. This is just too much for me. I don’t want to fight in this war at all. It’s not my fight. But of course I have to. If I didn’t, I would lose my manhood. My dad quickly snapped me out of my trance by snapping his fingers in my face.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdmKDAt3bpo
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- Hello? Earth to James? He said.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ77tUia5HV
- Huh? Oh, sorry.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwC91rT6B56
- So…?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZt6iTx93zy
- Um, y-yeah. I’ll be brave. I cringed at my own words.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCw2ljN1C4C
- Good.
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He patted my shoulder and left. Ok. Everything will be alright.
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(5)
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God dammit. War in 5 days. Why do I have to fight in this stupid war? I have nothing to do with it. I don’t want anything to do with it. Shouldn’t it be an option? If you don’t want to go to war, you don’t have to. Conscription is so dumb. It’s like they’re forcing you to die. You’re waiting at home, just doing your normal routine, when all of a sudden, a letter arrives. The letter says: “we’re sending you to die.”, and there’s nothing at all you can do about it. I sat in my bed, just thinking of this. I grabbed a fistful of my sheets in anger. I need to cool down and get some air. I got up and left my room. Once I came downstairs, I saw my mother sitting, drinking tea, and reading the newspaper. Her eyes lifted to me.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP5Wn32Cdpn
- James. She said.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrrVU0aJByl
- Yes?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ83XLH36Swg
- Where are you going?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjuUYAa1Efi
- I don’t know, out. I said, annoyed about one too many things.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbbdfxaUKFD
- Okay. She said, surprised at my angry tone.
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I grabbed my jacket and opened the door. The cold December, New York air. As I walked fast on the sidewalk, I counted the amount of stores I passed. 24, so far. I walked with a purpose, despite the fact that I’m not going anywhere. I stopped dead as I realized… That’s it. It’s not the war. It’s my parents. If it wasn’t for them, maybe I would care about this stupid war. If they didn’t make it their number one goal to see that I know nothing and don’t care about politics, maybe I’d care at least a little bit. But just because ever since I was young they’ve tried to take politics out of my mind, I don’t. It’s all their fault. I can’t believe they would do this. I cut through a parc. Little kids play around with their moms. Their dads are probably off at war. I went far away from them, in between some trees, and violently kicked a rock. I yelled profanities as I began kicking a large branch on the ground. Tears began rolling down my face. This isn’t how I wanted things to end. I wanted to live a full life. I wanted to move out and finally be myself. I don’t wanna die. No man wants to die. It’s a fate worse than death.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlpGffmmTDf
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- Are you okay? Says a woman coming up from behind me.
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I jumped a bit as she startled me. She held her small toddler by the hand.
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- What?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe1d24pfvx4
- Well, I heard you swearing so I came over. Then, I saw you kicking a tree branch. Is everything ok?
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Her toddler hid a bit behind her. I guess he was sort of scared of me.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8zt80mwx3i
- Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Just a bit upset.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡApQwkOXg3A
- Ah. It’s not my place to pry, but…354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRdygjw3HeZ
- I’m going off to war in five days. I said clenching my fists and avoiding eye contact.
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Her eyes widened for a second and she looked down.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmc5ViGNLVs
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- Oh, I’m sorry-354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEw3jYB0CWM
- It’s fine.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMpf0BaktKZ
- You should do what my husband did, if you don’t want to go. He cut off his finger. She said nonchalantly as if her husband wasn’t a coward.
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I immediately got even more angry. I have to go to war, but he gets to stay home with his wife and kid, not go through the trauma or death and not serve. What an asshole. I’m just a kid. I shouldn’t have to lose my life like this. Meanwhile he’s at home eating meat loaf, cooked by his pretty housewife, while I have to fight for my country. Anger bubbles up inside of me. How could anyone do this?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGfvhllfOyX
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- No thanks. I’d rather fight and defend my own country than just stand to the side and do nothing, like a coward.
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I didn’t know where that came from. She was being nice, and I snapped at her. She looked at me with a face that read: “My husband’s a coward?”. I immediately regretted everything,354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnEHc4DIfc3
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- I-I…I have to go. I said.
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I immediately walked off, hoping not to see her reaction. The only thing I heard was her kid asking: “mommy, what’s a coward?”.
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(4)
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Please. I don’t beg, but please. Please, God. I’ll do anything. Help me live this war. I don’t pray either. Yet here I stand on my knees, in front of my bed, praying. God, this stupid war has me doing things that I’ve never done before.
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Please, God. Are you listening? I’m scared. I know what my dad thinks. “Big boys don’t get scared”. He thinks that real men don’t feel fear or anything like that. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong. Maybe I’ll never know. After all, what do I know about manhood? I’m just a boy. A young boy who knows nothing about the world. Please, God. Give me the time to learn. Let me live and learn. Everyone else gets to. Why do this generation’s kids get the short-end of the stick? What did I do to deserve this? I always got good grades, I was always well-behaved, I always went out of my way to be kind to others… Is this really how I get repaid? What’s the point, honestly? You spend all your life not having fun because you don’t want to be a “bother” and then suddenly, just like that, your life is over. It’s gone. I’m not dead yet, but it sure feels like it. Do you understand how I feel, God? I’m in this strange trance where, nothing really matters, but you’re not completely emotionless because you can still feel fear, pain, and sadness. I was told that God knows everything. Do you know this awful, awful feeling? In four days, it will be a reality. The fear, the pain, the sadness… I will witness it firsthand. I wish I had asthma, or something like that. Something that would keep me from going off to this terrible war that I have nothing to do with. I wish someone understood how this really feels. I don’t think I can really, fully explain it. This “hanging between life and death” … You know you’re about to die, but what can you do about it? Some cut off their fingers, but I can’t do that. I already called them cowards in my mind. Can I really just grin and bear it like I usually do? Oh, God, please give me an answer. Amen.
I got up from my knees and sat on my bed. This is really the end. I glanced at my nightstand and saw the number I got from Art. I honestly wish I was him. He’s not scared of dying… he’s just scared of losing the war. I, on the other hand, don’t care about this stupid war. Is that selfish of me? Probably. I looked back at the number. Should I call? Was I supposed to call? I’m not really sure how these things are supposed to go… I sighed heavily, hoping that could let out some sort of clouded emotion… It didn’t work. I still felt like I was losing a part of me, slowly, every day. One small handful of particles at a time. It’s like life is trying to slow down my death, rather than spare me.
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If you’re going to do it, do it now, God.
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(3)
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And there I lay. On my bed. Staring at the ceiling. Three days until I go off to war. Three. I would care, but who has time for that? I would go on and on about not wanting to go and not wanting to do this and that, but who has the energy? Certainly not me. I hear a light knock at the door. I didn’t answer. Why should I? Will answering the door improve my life? I don’t think so. I just shut my eyes and hoped for the person or people to go away. Although, the emotion of hope has abandoned me. Quite a lot of emotions have abandoned me, actually. Happiness, anger, sadness, confusion, fear, jealousy and basically any other emotion. I am emotionless. I’m just hanging in this strange place between life and death. Oh, lord, if you wish to kill me, do it now. There would be nothing I want more. I whispered to myself and hopefully God. Although, yet again, no hope. I heard the soft knock again. I just rolled over to my other side.
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Please go away.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
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Please, please, please go away. Leave me alone with my thoughts. I wish to be alone. I am no longer happy, sad, or angry. Just numb. Please leave me to be numb by myself.
The door opened. It was my mother.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8PaVhW25nh
- James? She said, voice just quiet enough for me to hear.
I didn’t answer. I simply stared at the ceiling, fingers laced together and gently placed on my lower chest. She sat on my bed.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfKau7oFLth
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- James, you haven’t eaten in two days.
Did I? Did I really not eat in two days? I guess I didn’t notice. I haven’t really been hungry since…since…I can’t remember. I didn’t answer her question.
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- James, speak to me. She said, not in a caring way, but in an ordering way.
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I still didn’t answer.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk68KNO8Lyg
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- You’re being disrespectful.
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Of course. I’m being disrespectful. The one who’s going off to war and never seeing the light of day or anything I’m used to ever again. The one who’s about to suffer for a war I don’t want to be a part of. I rethink everything at that moment. I had a chance at happiness. I had a chance at love. I didn’t want to start things 7 days before the war…what good would that do? It would also hurt even more if I did. I want to live, but I want to die. I don’t want to feel this numbing feeling for ever and ever until I die. I want to feel alive, again. I want to be alive again. Whatever this is, I’m not alive. You know when you try to kill a bug, and it’s crushed but you still see its legs moving, so you assume it’s alive? That would be me at this moment. Alive, but dead. Just patiently, not patiently waiting for the outcome of death. Not wishing for death but not denying its presence either. Trying to stay alive, but deep down knowing it’s hopeless. That’s it. I feel hopeless. My mother fidgeted a little and got up.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHuhPrRhZAq
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- Fine. Don’t answer. Goodbye.
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And with that, she left. God, she must be thinking: “that stupid ingrate. He must really hate me that much. He’s obviously not just traumatized and full of fear. Definitely not.”. She doesn’t understand. No one understands. No one ever will understand.
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I would only wish for someone to understand if they could understand me too.
(2)
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I woke up this morning, trying to feel something. Anything. Luckily, I was successful because I reminded myself I was going off to war tomorrow. I immediately began shaking and tears formed in my eyes. At least I can feel again. Yay. If you failed to see the sarcastic humour in my “yay”, you are stupid. I sigh. I’m going off to war tomorrow. I’ve mentioned that before, but I wouldn’t be sure what else to mention since that’s all I can think about. I imagine what it’s going to be like: Full of men, shaking, scared, wishing they were back home with their lovers and mothers. Since I have none of these, I would just be praying for my life. As simple as that. My life. If only God had the time to worry about every life on this planet. Unfortunately, he only cares for the important ones, like Adolf Hitler, who seems to be approaching his goal quite fast. Does God want him to? I should hope not. That would mean our losing this war. I said I didn’t care if we won or lost, but, while I’m fighting, we should at least win. I walked into the bathroom and splashed the coldest water into my face. I can’t believe how many times I did that this week. It just feels so unreal. Like a dream. A dream that feels real but isn’t really. Please, wake me. I want to be woken up from this nightmare. I walked downstairs only to see both my parents, sitting on a couch, posture perfect. I was a bit confused, but I reached for a bagel and ignored it.
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- James? Said my father.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ3YjwaU26E
- Yes?354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwCEz5seuHX
- As you know…you are going off to war tomorrow. He said, almost as if he was having trouble speaking.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlrKthAa0Ss
- I’m aware.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmZ2mtGIvpk
- Well, we just wanted to say…
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My parents nodded to each other.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhSgOEfKnRQ
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- Good luck. They said.
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It didn’t even sound sincere. The “perfect” goodbye. Two middle-aged adults that have taught you to shut up all your life, sitting on a couch and wishing you good luck. I’m not sure if I want to kill them, or myself. I twitched a little, but still forced out a fake smile.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ884sfTqQl7
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- Thank you. I said.
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They smiled. I’m pretty sure other kids get full-on parties. Why do I get a lousy “good luck”? It was lousy. Don’t even try to save it. I glanced at a package in the stairs. That must be my uniform. I’m too scared to open it. Does that make me weak? I don’t know anything anymore. I took a violent bite out of my bagel and went back to my room. I really can’t deal with them right now. I’m not as upset about going to war anymore. I mean, it’s going to happen, no matter how much I protest. I have no choice. There is absolutely nothing I can do to change the fact that I’m leaving for war. All I can do is attempt to accept it. I laid down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, counting every stain. I watched an ant crawl back and forth, back, and forth, back, and forth…and so on, son on. This motion made my eyelids heavy. I shut my eyes. This might be the last wink of sleep I get. So, I decided to savour it.
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The battlefield required one more soldier. I went in, of course. Terrified, I placed my shaky finger onto the trigger. Oh, God, please help me now. I feel like I’m on the verge of death. All of a sudden, A gunshot. Clean, and fast. Nothing more than a loud gunshot. No dramatics, no screaming, just a loud noise. I quickly realized that this gunshot was directed toward me. I looked down at my chest. There was a wound, a bullet-sized hole, dripping with dark red blood. I didn’t fear death any longer. I shut my eyes and dropped to my knees. That’s it. My death. It’s not as tragic as I thought. Very calm, actually. The only thing I’m able to hear is the soft splashing of the waves against the sand. Suddenly, I can’t hear anymore. Just a loud but quiet ringing noise. I must be dead. I looked at the now blue sky. Before, it was cloudy. A tear escaped my eye because of the sudden bright demeanor of this day. I can finally go in peace.
I awoke with a gasp. Oh. It was just a dream. I’m not surprised if I actually do die that way. If I were to be killed in battle, I just want it to be calm, beautiful, meaningful. Not full of screaming and fear. This would be nice. Something that would make me very happy. Just dying calmly. I want to die accomplished. I don’t want unfinished business. I played with my fingers. Tomorrow can’t come sooner.
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(1)
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I ran my fingers over the disgusting army-green uniform that I was given. It’s not…pretty. I knew I wasn’t getting s-class outfits, here, but at least a different shade of green… Whatever. I stood in front of the front door. A body-length mirror stood in front of me. I do admit, this outfit makes me look taller. It flatters me quite nicely. I’ve never cared for clothing. I just wore plain grey, short sleeve shirts. Why am I just starting now to loathe certain styles? The things you feel before going off to war… Just then, my father walks in.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoVG8341eCY
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- Son? He said, stern, but it still came out as a question.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ33wOzzSzGS
- Yes? I said.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpYqfJBPtma
- …I’m not sure what to say. You’re my son…and you’re leaving. He said, looking down.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiV6lDcajwe
- Y-Yeah.
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I placed a hand on my shoulder. He didn’t say a single word. He just nodded.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL6P6YZVzAQ
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- Make us proud. He mumbled.
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I forced out a smile.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKE3c1b0J1t
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- I-I will.
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My mother walked in.354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcHjgqb8wSA
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- My son…don’t die. She said.
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I thought she was joking, at first, but I quickly realized she was completely sincere. I looked side-to-side as an awkward reflex. I didn’t think I had to answer, so I just nodded. She nodded back. I glanced out the window and noticed a large, black bus with the title: U.S military. I guess that’s for me. My parents patted my back as I opened the front door. Oh my God. It’s here. This is it. I’m going off to war. I took one last long look at my house, eyeing it up and down, before shaking my head and walking forward. The bus door opened. It looked exactly like a normal city bus. I placed my foot on the steep stairs in front of me.
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Come on, James! People are waiting to get on!
I inhaled the deepest breath of my life and pushed myself up the stairs. I saw other young men in the bus, trembling from fear. Some mumbling to themselves with wide eyes, some crying discreetly so no one sees and some traumatized. Oh god.
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