Status: In progress. Working on it when I can.
In Times of War
Aiden, part one.
"Almost there," Nathaniel, a fellow soldier, mumbled. "We're digging our graves from this day onward, fellas."
"Don't be ridiculous," Another soldier, Zachary, said. "Antarctica might be the main stage for this war, but it's hardly the most dangerous place. I heard Asia is one of the worst places to be sent. Let's be glad we're going here, and not anywhere more dangerous. Besides, my uncle is waiting for me here. I'll have support."
"That's what you think! Any one of us could die at any moment. Hell, this boat could be bombed and we wouldn't know it until it was too late. Your uncle might be dead already."
"Shut up! There's no way he's dead."
All this talk didn't help Aiden's stomach. He'd been on this ship for three days, and while his seasickness had been reduced to a simple stomachache rather than constant vomiting, the talk of dead family members brought the feeling back. What if his father was dead by the time he got there? How would be manage to defend himself when all he was was skin and bone? Looking around, he noted at least 75% of the other boys were of larger build, and had much stronger-looking bodies than he did.
"Hey, Phillips!" Aiden snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing his last name. "Pay attention, Jesus Christ. Nathaniel's been trying to get your attention for almost two minutes now."
"Right, sorry." Aiden said, looking at Nathaniel. "What is it?"
"I said, do you have anyone waitin' for you at the grounds like Waterford here does?" He shot a smirk at Zachary then, who simply glared in return.
"Well, yes, my father." He said, avoidant of the question. He knew how Nathaniel was, and he knew for a damn fact the man would try to convince Aiden his father was already long since dead. Aiden wouldn't have bought it anyways - Jack was much, much stronger than that. Even in almost a year, the likelihood of Jack being killed in battle was slim.
"You know he's probably--"
"Give it a rest, Bently." Another soldier sitting nearby said. "Don't go planting those kinds of thoughts into men's heads. Let them have hope and faith in their family members that are already here, false hopes or otherwise. Even if they are dead, have some damn respect."
The ship fell quiet for one minute and one minute only, the sound of the ocean crashing around the metal structure of the boat being the only audible thing. Conversation slowly started back up, but Nathaniel remained quiet, grumbling to himself and laying on his cot, miserable. Aiden spotted the boy who had shut him up - a black kid with a tag identifying him as Jackson Crus - and shot him a smile and mouthed a small "thank you" to him. Jackson nodded, and went back to whatever it was he was doing.
Aiden watched the other boys around him, observed their reactions. He hoped they realized that only pain awaited them, all of them. Regardless of what happens and how they all fair, they'll all see enough dead bodies to fill an empty graveyard. And what's worse, they would have to have some of those men die by their own hands. Aiden had never had to hurt anything or anyone before, and the thought of deciding if someone else lived or died frightened him. Playing God didn't sound as fun as people made it out to be. So as they approached the Antarctic shoreline, while Aiden appeared calm externally, he had a war of his own waging inside his mind.
"Don't be ridiculous," Another soldier, Zachary, said. "Antarctica might be the main stage for this war, but it's hardly the most dangerous place. I heard Asia is one of the worst places to be sent. Let's be glad we're going here, and not anywhere more dangerous. Besides, my uncle is waiting for me here. I'll have support."
"That's what you think! Any one of us could die at any moment. Hell, this boat could be bombed and we wouldn't know it until it was too late. Your uncle might be dead already."
"Shut up! There's no way he's dead."
All this talk didn't help Aiden's stomach. He'd been on this ship for three days, and while his seasickness had been reduced to a simple stomachache rather than constant vomiting, the talk of dead family members brought the feeling back. What if his father was dead by the time he got there? How would be manage to defend himself when all he was was skin and bone? Looking around, he noted at least 75% of the other boys were of larger build, and had much stronger-looking bodies than he did.
"Hey, Phillips!" Aiden snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing his last name. "Pay attention, Jesus Christ. Nathaniel's been trying to get your attention for almost two minutes now."
"Right, sorry." Aiden said, looking at Nathaniel. "What is it?"
"I said, do you have anyone waitin' for you at the grounds like Waterford here does?" He shot a smirk at Zachary then, who simply glared in return.
"Well, yes, my father." He said, avoidant of the question. He knew how Nathaniel was, and he knew for a damn fact the man would try to convince Aiden his father was already long since dead. Aiden wouldn't have bought it anyways - Jack was much, much stronger than that. Even in almost a year, the likelihood of Jack being killed in battle was slim.
"You know he's probably--"
"Give it a rest, Bently." Another soldier sitting nearby said. "Don't go planting those kinds of thoughts into men's heads. Let them have hope and faith in their family members that are already here, false hopes or otherwise. Even if they are dead, have some damn respect."
The ship fell quiet for one minute and one minute only, the sound of the ocean crashing around the metal structure of the boat being the only audible thing. Conversation slowly started back up, but Nathaniel remained quiet, grumbling to himself and laying on his cot, miserable. Aiden spotted the boy who had shut him up - a black kid with a tag identifying him as Jackson Crus - and shot him a smile and mouthed a small "thank you" to him. Jackson nodded, and went back to whatever it was he was doing.
Aiden watched the other boys around him, observed their reactions. He hoped they realized that only pain awaited them, all of them. Regardless of what happens and how they all fair, they'll all see enough dead bodies to fill an empty graveyard. And what's worse, they would have to have some of those men die by their own hands. Aiden had never had to hurt anything or anyone before, and the thought of deciding if someone else lived or died frightened him. Playing God didn't sound as fun as people made it out to be. So as they approached the Antarctic shoreline, while Aiden appeared calm externally, he had a war of his own waging inside his mind.