ASHTON

Since joining the army, I have noticed that most men don't come for the joy of it, for the satisfying praise of fighting for our country. No, most men come to claim their manhood. The boys do not realize that that is the one of the many things war takes away when they arrive, all smiles and fresh uniforms that has not touched a spot of dirt. The eighteen year olds saunter in in their crisp clothes and write brave letters to their families about how war is tough and fun, but that's before they have experienced sprinting through mud and decomposing flesh, dodging bullets and feeling the ground shake from grenades under your stumbling feet. That is before you have watched your best friend crumple into a lifeless form directly in front of your eyes, before you have writhed in excruciating pain deep inside a trench, where no one can hear your screams over the sound of gunfire. War doesn't prove your manliness to anyone, not even yourself. It gets you bigger muscles and scarred skin, but all it does is prove that life is present, not the past or the future. Life is now, and you better fight through the blood to see the light on the other end, or you will not see it at all.

They came and picked up the letters this morning. My heart lifted in that Calum would be receiving word from me soon, to ease his flaming nerves. I know he has been going through shit at home, with his terrible parents. I used to be able to protect him from them, but now that I am gone, I can only hope that he isn't slipping.

The lieutenants gave us more paper and a pen today, which was out of the ordinary, considering they normally only let us write letters in a designated time period. They seem to understand how sacred those times are to us, so they are letting us keep writing material in our pockets so that we can write to our loved ones as we hike through our journey. I am eternally grateful. This paper and pen is the best gift I have received in years.

I sit on the edge of my cot, lacing up the thick boots on my feet. My fingers twist around the laces, making sure they are knotted multiple times so that they won't come undone.

"Do you know what we are doing today?" I ask Michael, who is pocketing the few possessions he has as we all get prepared to leave, knowing we will not be back for a while. Michael nods, glancing around the room to see if he forgot anything.

"Getting on a plane. Flying to a different base camp, but we won't be staying there." Michael says, rubbing his scarred hands together. "We're supposed to be getting more weapons there."

"Hopefully some more gas masks." Luke adds from where he is sitting on his cot. He has already started writing on the sheets of paper given to us, since he apparently forgot a few things to say on his recent letter. I have a million things I could say to Calum that would fill up thousands of books, but I need to say those things in person. I need to be able to see his immediate reaction, and press my lips against his. I can't, so scattered letters will have to do.

I finish tying my boots and I stand up, making sure they are secure on my feet before walking over to the desk that is in the corner of the room, picking up the writing material and sliding it into my pack. I look back on the dresser and my chest aches when I realize I almost forgot to grab my picture of Calum. I carefully pick it up, trying not to let my calloused fingers tear the paper as I admire it. His hair was a mess, because I took it when he had just woken up. His eyes were squinted closed as he laughed, one hand reaching out towards the camera as though he were to try and stop me from capturing the moment. I smile at the memory before gently putting it away, just as a hard knock sounds on the door.

The door opens, revealing one of the lieutenants, and he merely says, "We're out," before continuing down the hallway, replaying the same message to the others. The three of us move out the door, the sound of stomping boots filling our ears. I join the mass of soldiers in the hallway as we all move out of the building that we only arrived in last night, not quite so eager to get on one of the small planes and travel towards yet another camp.

As we walk out of the building, immediately noticing the several planes sitting atop the hill, Luke scrunches up his face.

"You know, I've always hated planes." Luke says to us as we walk up the hill. Neither Michael nor I answer, not seeing how this is relevant to much, so the blonde continues to talk.

"They could crash at any time, and it makes my ears hurt when we land, and it's so claustrophobic." Luke points out all the negatives of the plane, and Michael glances at him.

"Shut up, Luke."

"What? It's just so big, and it's scary." Luke reasons as we near the planes. Michael smirks.

"That's what she said." Michael laughs, and the blonde turns red, turning into a stammering mess to try and clear up what he said. I ignore the two of them, letting them mess with each other as we step to the top of the hill, the lieutenants immediately pushing us into smaller groups to file into planes. The two boys beside me quiet once we reach the very top, being pushed to the side of a plane by the lieutenants.

I grip the smooth, metal railings of the plane and step inside, ducking my head to avoid bashing it against the top of the plane. The aircraft is tiny, only build to fit a few soldiers and a pilot. Luke, Michael, and five other guys follow me into the plane before the lieutenants shut the doors firmly, allowing darkness to envelope us.

The dim lights from the windows filter in slowly and we begin to be able to pick out objects around us. I reach into the back of the plane and grab the weapon bag, handing all the guys a gun. We make sure they are correctly filled with bullets and check to see if they are on safety before settling them in our laps, waiting for the plane to take off.

I lean back and close my eyes, trying to appreciate this moment of peace that we are in. I let my heart slow into my normal beat, which is heightened into a much faster speed than it used to be, and let my mind dwell on whatever it wants to dwell on. Of course, the thought of why I joined the war in the first place slides into my mind. Why? Why did I? I suppose I could say that I joined because of my father, but having my dad away at war all the time just made me not want to enlist. I hated having him gone all the time. I hated that whenever he came back, he seemed so much bigger, so much more scarred, and so much braver than I could ever become, and I hated how I lost that father-son connection I once had with him, destroyed along with all the other things war diminished.

It wasn't because of my mum, either. She didn't want me to leave. She had suffered the loss of her husband at the mercy of a gun, and she didn't want the same fate for me. She didn't want to have to go through the same distant relationship that would inevitably break, she didn't want to stand in front of my tombstone that sits over a pile of dirt that holds no body, considering mine would be left in the dirt. She didn't want to stare at that little flag they put over the stone that boasts my contribution to the nation, didn't want to see me become just another ghost in the graveyard.

It definitely wasn't because of Calum. Calum was the only reason I wanted to stay. His dark hair with the blonde highlights he was so nervous about getting done, his pouty pink lips, his soft brown eyes and his smooth tan skin. I could never want to leave him. Never. I did, though, and I want to shoot myself in the foot every time I think about it. He needed me. He still does, trapped like a lost spirit in his trouble home, with all the loud voices and ignorance.

It was because of me, I suppose. Me and my need to become someone other than "that kid who dropped out of school". I needed to get away from my former life, to escape my lonely figure and throw myself onto the battlefield, where the knives can scar my skin until it matches the ones on my wrist. That's what I needed, even if I shattered everyone else by doing it.

The plane suddenly roars, moving forward as the nose tips into the air, and I lock my muscles in place, keeping still while the plane glides into the sky. My ears ache from the separation from ground level, but I ignore it like I always do.

"I miss her." Luke says, about five minutes into the flight. I open my eyes and look at him, to find he is leaning back against the wall of the plane, his blue eyes dully staring at the ceiling. Michael's gaze flickers over Luke's face, down to his clasped fingers, clenched into fists. His pale skin is illuminated by the fluorescent lighting that is filtering from the few bulbs on the plane's interior walls.

"Your mum?" I ask, rubbing my arms lightly. Luke blinks slowly, not looking at me, his stare remaining on the walls.

"Yeah." The plane falls into silence, apart from the roar of the engine and the quiet conversation going on between the other soldiers. Michael coughs quietly, placing his gun beside him instead of in his lap. I breathe in and out, focusing on evening my breaths because there is nothing else to focus on. It's too awkward to look at Luke, who commonly gets homesick, especially on plane rides. It's useless to try and comfort him since nothing you say that is comforting is true, and there is nothing more Luke hates than a lie.

"You know, Ash, you're lucky." Luke says, and I furrow my eyebrows at him. I can't think of any time that I have been lucky, aside from being able to dodge a bullet last second, and that doesn't necessarily count as lucky. I stare at him until his gaze breaks off from the wall and slides lazily over to me. He licks his dry lips.

"You don't have as much family to leave behind." Luke continues, and I clench my jaw. Luke looks away from me, back at the wall.

"So you're saying that I'm lucky that I don't have much family? That my whole family is dead, and that makes me lucky?" I say incredulously, biting my tongue to resist snapping at him. Michael jerks to attention at our harsh phrases, his eyes watching us carefully.

"I'm saying that if you die, you only leave your mum behind. And Calum, but he isn't family. If you die, you'll just be rejoined with the rest of your family. Me? I leave my mum, my dad, my brothers, everyone." Luke shuts his eyes, not noticing my reddening face. "I just have so much more to lose."

"Everyone but my mum is dead, Luke." I bark, pushing the gun off my lap and getting to my knees. "If I die, there will be no one but my mum left. No one. She has already lots everyone else. Since when has dying been a good thing?"

Luke opens his eyes and looks at me, his blue eyes cold as ice. "Since dying became a way to get out of this war." He argues. I grind my teeth together, trying to stop myself from yelling at him. Michael watches the two of us intently, not interfering, but cautiously monitoring us in case our disagreement gets too rough. "All I'm saying is, you're lucky that you don't break as many hearts when your death letter goes home."

"My mum would be left alone." I spat. "All. Alone. And Calum? He is family to me, Luke. I love him more than I love anyone else, and don't you dare try and sit here and tell me that's not important." My hands begin to shake, and I feel like my throat is an open grave for all my secrets to spill out from, spilling into the claustrophobic air for everyone to hear.

"I never said that, I'm just saying that he isn't blood related to you, and there is a major difference between losing a family member and losing a boyfriend." Luke says, and I shut my eyes, turning away from him and falling back against the wall, biting my tongue to keep from saying anything more. I bite my tongue hard, so that blood fills my mouth and muffles the thoughts in my head.

"You don't understand." I manage to say before I fall into silence, refusing to listen to Luke's rambles and Michael's attempt to reason the dispute between us, staring instead at the dusty grey bag that holds the gas masks.

This has been a continuous disagreement between me and a numerous number of people. Most everyone I know dismisses Calum for nothing but a silly boyfriend that will surely be broken up with once I enlisted into war, but it isn't that way at all. Calum and I are tied together as strings on the same beautifully carved violin, singing a sappy, sad song that nobody but the two of us knows. We need each other. I need him, more than I need anyone else. I used to act like I didn't need anyone, that I was okay with sitting alone and depending on my own fleshy heart to clean up the damage I caused for myself, but I slowly fell in love with the quiet boy who snuck out his window at evening.

People just don't seem to understand that family is more than just the chemicals in our bloodstream.

It's not my fault that my father died on the battlefield. It's not my fault that my brother and sister died in a car crash. It's not my fault that my mum and I have struggled through life together, trying to create as little scars as possible. It's not my fault that my family was ripped from my grasp, leaving my mother and I stranded on a deserted island full of demons and haunting flashbacks, refusing to step into the ocean in fear of being sucked into the whirlpool of emotions that we only just freed ourselves from.

In this way, it is only natural that I reached out to Calum with open arms, my heart unguarded and throbbing, blood seeping through my chest to reveal the gruesome pain that life as brought. I needed something- someone- to sew up the broken strings on my heart and tie them together with care. Calum was that someone. He fixed me and I fixed him. We melted together like snow, forming a puddle of tears and love that will remain until the sun soaks us up into its warmth.

We sort of accepted the fact that people wouldn't believe us when we shout our love from the rooftops, and we acknowledged the fact that our relationship was irregular in other people's eyes, two boys kissing under the moonlight. I suppose their words and jagged opinions could have broken us, if it weren't that we didn't care what they thought. We had more shit to deal with than just their judgmental stares.

"Ashton." Michael's voice finds its way to my ears, but I ignore it, assuming he will be on Luke's side. They have been best friends since they were born, having gone to the same play groups up to the same high school. I refuse to meet either of their gazes, closing my eyes and trying to avert my thoughts from the tan boy back in Sydney, trying to get my mind to crawl in on itself and focus on here and now.

Suddenly, something hits the plane, causing it to swerve a bit in the air. I grab onto the wall, gripping my gun in my left hand as the plane levels itself back out. I glance around, seeing the confused faces of the soldiers around me. None of us say anything, settling back into our spots.

Then a hole appears in the ground of the plane, and a loud bang sounds.

"Shit!" I cry out, and I leap to my feet, along with the other soldiers as the plane veers dangerously to the right as holes suddenly appearing in the floor of the plane, and the sound of a thousand gunshots begin exploding in my ears.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Michael screams, grabbing his gun as he presses himself to the wall.

"Grab your guns!" the lieutenant hollers as he presses into the side of the plane, the pilot trying to steer the aircraft as bullet holes cut through the strong exterior of the plane. It's only a moment of time before it hits the engine. When it hits the engine, we're dead.

"What's happening?" one of the soldiers yells, scooting away from the center of the plane. A bullet whizzes right next to his foot and he screams. I break into a sweat.

"No, no, no, it can't end like this." I whisper to myself, tears forming in the corner of my eyes. It can't end like this, not like this. This is not the way to die, not now.

"We're being shot down!" the lieutenant barks into his phone. "Code Red, Code Red!"

Then with a loud burst, the entire back of the plane erupts, throwing Michael and I forward, our heads bashing into the hard wall as we both yell, and the plane's nose dips down towards the ground.

---

A/N well this sucked

but I wanted to update since I'm like two weeks overdue oops

vote and comment pls? maybe? ily guys so much bye:)