ASHTON

At some point of the night, the bombs stopped exploding and the screams stopped piercing the air. Everyone is grateful, for the silence and this fragment of peace in the middle of hell.

It doesn't take too long for one of the lieutenants to arrive at the top of the trench, hollering down at us to get moving. We all react like puppets on a string, jerkily grabbing the weapons and supplies before one by one climbing out of the trench. It's pitch black outside, but none of us can tell if it's because of the night or if it is because of the bomb's smoke. A few lieutenants use flashlights to see, shining them in front of us and at other soldiers' backs to make sure everyone is in line. I can tell by the flashes of light that all of us are drenched in mud and dirt from the trenches, the whites of our eyes shining like glass.

The hike back to the helicopters is treacherous, stumbling over dead forms and bloodless limbs that have been separated from people's bodies. We are constantly tripping over something and fumbling to keep our balance in the dark. Overall, we are just grateful that we get to fly back to our base camp. We stayed here, sleeping in trenches and a few scattered forts for weeks, drawing out to be months, and we have all been slowly going insane.

We start to hear the whirring of the helicopter blades, and they get deafening with each step our tattered boots take. Bodies press closer to watch other as we huddle into separate groups to file into the huge helicopters. I spot Luke's familiar broad shoulders in the mass of bodies, and I push through until I get behind him, knowing Michael must be somewhere close by.

The small group of soldiers lessen as they climb into the helicopter, and I shove myself forwards behind Luke, placing my boot on the ledge and gripping the hand rails to pull myself up. The helicopter is silent, other than the roar of the blades. I'm thankful for the noise, all of us are. It's the sound of something hopeful, so different than the sound of gunshots and shells.

Luke slides beside me and releases a breath, tearing off his helmet. I do the same, my filthy fingers unbuckling the strap and ripping it off my head. I hold the bulky helmet in my hands as the helicopter doors shut close.

Luke bows his head, running his fingers through his short hair that we had to chop short.

"That was a rough one." Luke comments. It was. The shelling was bad this line. Too many weapons, not enough defenses.

I feel the helicopter lift shakily off the ground, swaying a bit as it rises up into the air. Luke is pressed against me while the helicopter straightens itself out in the air.

Michael, who had been seated at the other side of the helicopter, stands up and carefully walks over to us, sitting down beside me. He takes off his helmet and sighs, rubbing small circles over his pale fists.

"How is your leg doing?" Luke asks me. I look at him, at his pale face marked with mud and blood that may or may not be his. His blue eyes, faded from seeing too much pain and grief, gaze down at the wound on my leg.

It isn't too bad, just a bit bloody. At telling him this, Luke nods, straightening his shoulders and leaning back to look at Michael.

"How about you, Mikey?" He asks. "You doing okay?"

Michael turns at Luke's voice and nods, giving him a small smile. He stops clenching his fists and loosens them, stretching out his short fingers.

"Yeah. I'm alright."

We sit in silence, because that is the one thing we continue to cherish in such a hell-driven place.

The helicopter ride back to base camp takes a while. It mostly consists of complete quiescence and a few murmurs here in there, the sound of the helicopter blades filling the empty air. None of us move until the helicopter slows down and begins lowering itself back down to the ground. We then grab our helmets in our rough hands and prepare to step off the chopper.

As soon as it settles on the ground, the thick walls fall open and we hurriedly step off, leaping off the side and onto the gravel landing. My legs have the immediate impulse to start running, due to the frequency of dropping straight on the trench warfare battlefield, but I force myself to walk normally, Michael and Luke to the right of me.

I notice the other helicopters opening their doors as well, soldiers jumping out of them. A see a few familiar faces and a few not so familiar, but we all begin walking in a clump, one huge mass of hard muscles and loud boots.

The base camp is a few miles away, but with our long stride and our strong legs, we are able to reach the sight fairly quickly. The moment we are able to see the long, flat buildings, conversation begins to rise one again.

We all walk onto the front lawn, bodies scattering to enter through separate doors. Michael turns to me before we step inside and grips my arm.

"You should go to the infirmary first." He says. I open my mouth to argue, but the boy shakes his head, his helmet dangling from his fingers. "No, I'm serious. It may just be a bit of blood, but I don't want you to get blood poisoning or some shit like that."

I let out a sigh. "Fine." It's useless to try and argue with him. I turn on my heel and walk the short distance to the infirmary. The air is a trembling cold, seeping straight through my thick clothes and through my skin, slipping ice into my veins.

I open the doors to the infirmary, where a nurse sits at the counter. She looks up and sees me, her eyes immediately scanning my body for any noticeable wound.

"Leg." I say, gesturing to it. "Grazed by a bullet." I walk over to one of the cots and sit down on it, untying the laces on my boot and yanking it off. The nurse walks over and bends down, helping me roll up my pant leg. Blood coats my shin, turning the fair skin a dark red.

The nurse wets a cloth and begins scrubbing the skin to get the dried blood off. Once the wound is visible, she analyzes it, marking down the depth and width of it before wrapping it up in gauze.

"Does it hurt much?" She asks. I chuckle and shake my head.

"I've felt worse." I say, and she gives me a knowing smile, straightening up.

"I'm sure you have." She says, and turns to the counter again. She's been the nurse here for years- she's seen much worse than just a grazed leg.

I thank her for fixing me up before standing up again, pulling down my pant leg and lacing up my boot. As I put pressure on the leg, I notice it feels considerably better than before, and I can now walk on it with ease.

I leave the infirmary just as someone else is being dragged in. His face is turned down, but I can see that his eyes are scrunched up tight, his jaw clenched and teeth bared as he releases strangled groans from his throat. My eyes trail down to wear the source is- a huge gash in the middle of his stomach, his shirt completely torn apart. I can immediately tell that it is the wound of a shell.

The boy looks up, and I gaze at his unfamiliar features. He's young. Eighteen. A new recruit. He probably hasn't felt this kind of pain before. I watch as the nurse leaps up, grabbing as much supplies as she can before meeting with the boy, inspecting the bloody wound. He's handling the pain well, I take notice. He's strong. I hope that he'll live.

As the boy notices my staring, I quickly look away for formality's sake. I know the embarrassment of being injured in front of someone older and stronger. I have felt it too.

So I turn around and walk out of the hospital room, glad to be breathing air that hasn't been mixed with the bitter scent of blood. My boots stomp against the gravel as I make my way over to the dormitories, where Michael, Luke and I all share a room.

I pass a couple of lieutenants on my way, and I give them a respectful nod, straightening my shoulders as I walk past them. After they are behind me, I hurry down the hallway until I see our door, and I twist doorknob open.

Inside, I see Michael and Luke sitting on their cots. There are three in the room, and they have pushed theirs together so that they sit side by side. I don't question why.

"There you are," Michael says brightly. They both have pens and paper in their hands. "I was beginning to think you actually got blood poisoning."

I ignore him, sprinting to my bed and grabbing the paper and pen that was sitting on it. "Letters are today?"

"Picking them up tomorrow." Luke answers, watching me sit down on the cot and position the pen in my hand.

"Who are you writing to?" I ask the blonde. Luke bends over the piece of paper, scrawling a few letters down at the top.

"My mum." He says. I listen to the tip of his pen scratch against the paper before he continues, "And you?"

I blink down at the blank sheet of paper. "Calum." I say softly.

There is a small period of silence as thoughts of the dark haired boy fills my mind, his eyes warm like chocolate and his cheeks fluffy and tan. I miss him. I miss him so fucking bad. I miss kissing his cheek in the morning and whispering I love you into his ear, just so he'll wake up feeling loved. I miss taking him to every old coffee shop I can find and bringing him home late, sneaking him through the window so that his mum doesn't find out. I miss it all so much.

"Well, I'm writing to my hot ass girlfriend." Michael announces loudly, his pen flying down to meet with his paper. I let out a groan.

"You don't have a hot ass girlfriend." I say, like I do every time Michael says this. He claims he has some tall, blonde girlfriend, who apparently is dating the clumsy boy whose favorite food is pizza.

"Yes, I do." He argues back, delicately writing down a few neat letters. "You guys just haven't met her yet."

A look I can't comprehend crosses Luke's face, but he hides it quickly, scribbling down some more hurried words.

"Then why doesn't she ever write you back?" I say.

"Her modeling career is very time consuming."

"Whatever." Luke grumbles, ending our bantering. "Lets just get to writing, yeah?"

We all turn towards our papers again. Luke and Michael are both writing furiously, but I can't figure out what to put. How am I supposed to put eight weeks worth of events into one piece of paper?

I take a shuddering breath and start:

Dear Calum,

Hey Cal. We are at base camp right now. We just got back from the trenches. It was hell. Dammit, Cal. I miss you so fucking much. I miss you and your pouty lips and your shitty taste in music and your laugh. I want to see you again.

I hate sleeping alone, Cal. It's too lonely. People aren't meant to sleep alone. I hate sleeping without you beside me. It's cold. It's empty. It hurts.

I keep talking about you to Luke and Michael. You remember them, right? I think I told you about them in previous letters. Anyway, I think they've gotten fed up with hearing about you all the time, and I think I have run out of stories to tell. I'm tempted to just get my legs blown off or something so that I can live but come home and see you. I don't know if I can last much longer without seeing you.

They have been sending a lot of guys out on leave since the war is slowing down a little and more recruits are coming in. They've been allowing guys to stay home for two weeks. Two weeks, Cal. I'm praying that they will let me come home and see you soon.

I hate not hearing your voice. Your voice is my favorite thing about you. I can't hear you through just these shitty letters. I've almost forgotten what your voice sounds like, and I'm sure you have nearly forgotten mine as well. I want this to be over, Calum. I want to see you again.

Its hellacious here. Flesh everywhere. Blood everywhere. I hate it. I hate that I've grown accustomed to it. Goddammit. I hope I get put on leave soon, Cal, because I miss you. I miss you so much.

I feel like I Miss You by blink-182 has become our theme song, and that's not necessarily a good thing.

I love you, Calum. I love you so so so much. Never forget that, alright? Even if this ends up being my last letter, remember that I love you more than the world. This will be over soon, and I'll be able to kiss you in person again. I promise.

With much love,
Ash xxx

---
A/N sigh

my parents are fighting hahAhah what fun

kinda done with them. kinda done with school. kinda done with life. kinda done with everything tbh

but i'm going to Europe this summer so i guess thats something to look forward to whoo

pls vote and comment i love you guys so much! xo