My story so far!

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Chapter 1:

              Great, I think as the lights in the underground train flicker off again. I sigh. That’s the third time this trip. I feel a hand on my shoulder. Veel.

              “C’mon, Birch. It’s not that bad.” He smiled. I can only bring myself to smile a little. Veel’s deep brown eyes seem to flash as the lights came back on. Veel’s younger sister sits beside him. She is almost as tall as he is, and their dark skin, hair, and eyes match almost exactly.

              “Yeah, Birch,” she teased. “You should be glad for the chance of some quality time with your boyfriend.” I sigh again. I don’t really know how to define my relationship with Veel. I never call him my boyfriend. Only other people do that. My relationship with him also made it awkward to be friends with his sister, but she didn’t mind. She has all the social skills I wish I have.

              “I just… want to get there as fast as possible.” I say through a sigh. I don’t know why I am so restless. Maybe I just need to be away from home.

              “Well, you’re in luck, because we’re here,” Veel said, standing. I stand and follow him. That’s when I notice he’s limping.o

              “Veel? Are you okay?” I ask, concerned.

              “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just… something that happened yesterday.”

              “Why? Where were you yesterday?”

              “I… it doesn’t matter.” He looks down. I glance sideways at him, but I leave it alone. I don’t like to butt in. I stand and follow him. His arm clanks slightly, turning a few heads as we walk through the crowded underground station, the metal glinting in the fluorescent lighting. I speed up as the crowds thin out, trying to catch up with him. His right arm touches mine as we walk, the steel cold against my skin. The feeling brings back a flood of memories. Creeping through an enemy base. Hearing him scream. Running toward the sound, not caring whether we lost the war. Finding him lying passed out in a pool of blood, one arm and one ear gone. My Sergeant hitting me across the face for leaving my post. Veel walking out of the surgery room, his new arm gleaming at his side.

 I clutch my chest, taking deep breaths to remind me of where I am. Veel is looking at me, concerned. “You okay?” He asks. I nod, still not ready to talk about it. He wraps his arm around me and I stiffen. I wasn’t ready for that. He seems to sense this and pulls away, turning his eyes to the stairs out of the underground.

As we walk up the long flight of dirty stairs, I can’t help but think. I dread the moment I have to go home again. My mom is... well… it’s hard to explain. She yelled at my baby brother this morning. Nothing serious. Just the usual, calling him worthless, et cetera, et cetera. She made him cry. This happens almost daily in my house, and the horrible thing is that there are six of us, and as the oldest, I feel responsible. It’s why I get out as soon as I can, and I am literally counting down the days to my birthday. When I turn eighteen, I’ll finally get to move out of our stupid hut, stop going to stupid training, and get my own stupid house. I’m excited.

If you couldn’t tell.

We finally reach the training center, a gleaming white building that looks out of place among the grimy, scattered dwellings. There is no social class here. No order, barely any law except: ‘your children will start Training at 10. They will begin warfighting at 13. If they are lucky, they’ll get promoted and have less chance of brutally dying’ and that’s basically it. If you don’t send your children to Training or they refuse to go to war, the poor citizens that have been forced into policing will show up at your house, and tiredly force your children to Training at gunpoint. No one fears them. It’s all quite exhausting.

Veel and I push open the doors, and squint at the fluorescent light reflecting off the pure white walls. I reach for his hand and squeeze it as we are forced to part ways. I go left, dazedly following the twisting and turning pathways I’ve memorized over the years.

I push my way through the halls without bothering to give my name to any of the tired guards. Not that they care.

As I finally reach my destination, pushing through the doors into the spy headquarters, my Sergeant glares at me. He knows I didn’t tell anyone my name, and he doesn’t like it. I ignore him, sliding into my desk chair. It’s horribly uncomfortable, and as I slip my SoldierVision 450 onto my head, I struggle to find a comfortable position. Oh well. I’ll be standing in a few minutes anyway.

I jump as the words ‘Stealth – Lecture 16.4’ flash before my eyes.

Ugh.

I was hoping we’d get to do something different today. Stealth comes easily to me. I’m not small, per se, but I’m thin and light on my feet. Not to mention my experience hiding and sneaking away from my mother.

All I really want to do right now is take a nap, but I’ve seen too many people get caught to think I could get away with that. Instead, I turn to plan B. Talking to Veel.

Last year, Veel, tech savvy that he is, figured out a way to hack the system so I can basically transmit my thoughts from my SoldierVision to his. Don’t ask me how he did it, but it comes in useful. If he can’t talk he’ll ignore me, and then I’ll have to figure something else out.     

                                             My eyes shift to a nearly invisible thought bubble at the top right of my screen and I push a button on the top of my headset to select it. Now I can think words and phrases and it will send them to Veel. I orchestrate my first sentence carefully.

“Are you as bored as I am?”

I sit and wait, painfully counting down from 100. By the time I get to 15 I’m seriously considering napping in my chair.

“Birch?”

Jeez, I almost peed my pants.

“Veel?”

“Hey, Birch. Doing stealth again, I’m guessing?”

“Yep. What about you? Drills?”

“Nope. We’re actually doing something fun today.” He sends me a mental picture of himself jogging through a lush green forest. The forest isn’t real of course, just a clever effect of the SoldierVision. Forests like that don’t exist.

“Ugh, I wish I could figure out how you send pictures like that. How do you do it?”

“You have to figure it out on your own, Birch.”

 “I hate you,”     I thought grumpily.

“Love you too.”

The conversation screeched to a stop.

“Sorry, it was a joke,” Veel thought apologetically.

“I know.” Great. Here I thought this was going to be pleasant. I know I should at least be flattered, but it just makes me think about how complicated it would be to have what I want. The lecture ends, but I don’t want to leave this unresolved. So I steel my nerves and take the leap.

“I love you too, Veel.”

Then I sever the connection.
ty everyone!!
- Frog