The soldiers are marching again, with the heavy sound of drums quick to follow.
Everyone in the town who knows what is coming stays silent and tries to hide, praying that they won't stop here, in Woodson.
And it's every week now that they pick a new...
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A. Marina - My family's trademark.
Adeline, Andres, Antonio, Alina.
All of our names start with an A, and we use it to remember each other, especially now with mom gone.
I hold the twin piece of fabric I made for myself and Andres tightly to my chest.
It is small enough to fit into my brother's army suit pocket and the one on my apron. I sewed it myself at home with leftover supplies when I knew that Andres and I were going to be parted soon.
Letting out a breath, I get up from my sitting position in the women cabin's stripped bed and head out the door.
The sun has not come out yet being that it is so early, but I pay no mind to the shade the clouds provide. All of the medical supplies are already packed from yesterday night's preparations, so all I have left to do now is leave camp with the rest of the others.
I join Beatrice at the place where the patient care tent used to be and help her carry some kits and things, the tools overflowing in her arms.
"Thanks," she declares as I relieve her of some towel containers.
Of all the people I've met here, Beatrice has proven to be the friendliest. No other women were really willing to interact with me, probably because of the age difference.
"What do you think will happen today, Beatrice?"
Fear and worry bubbles up inside me thinking about all of the possibilities, each of them involving someone dying.
But it doesn't make me any less worried.
In light of the announcement yesterday and the Other troops approaching, our legion is moving out in the hopes of finding a better vantage point.
"Don't fret too much, sweetie. You won't get hurt if you just stay close to the nursing station."
Beatrice gives me a motherly look, which I know is because she thinks I am scared for myself. However, this is only mildly true.
"... But that's not what you're really worried about, is it? What's wrong?"
"It's my brother," I confess."My brother is also here, and- "
"You mean...?"
"I volunteered in replace of my father, but they drafted my brother too. I didn't know what else to do." I shrug, turning away from her and towards the lightening sky.
The hate I have for my situation swells inside of my chest. Why can't I just lead a normal life? Honestly, this war is useless. The more fighting that happens, the more resources that are expended, used, wasted. Instead of coming to an agreement, Other and Nation use weapons and force.
Now our region's legion is growing by the minute through drafting boys seventeen and older, through the death of children.
Now my brother and I are stuck here, alone and terrified of dying before we even reach twenty years of age.
