(Daniel's PoV)

Dear Daniel,

    I wish you were here. I really need someone to talk to. I'm still so upset about Bradley. I know I should just forget about him and move on, but I can't. I really liked him, and I really thought that he liked me back. I'm so sorry this is all I talk about nowadays. I just can't seem to get my mind off it. I feel so stupid for believing we were falling in love. My friends all seem sick of hearing about this. I just feel so lonely. I can't wait until you get back.

--Joy

    I felt so bad for Joy. She just seemed so broken. I didn't want her thinking of what Bradley thought about her then or now, but at the same time I couldn't blame her for doing so. She was hurting.

    Still, it had been almost three months since she found out about Bradley cheating on her. I desperately wished I could physically be there for her, or even just to help her in any way. I sighed, holding the letter in my hands.

    "Is it Joy?" Logan asked.

    I nodded. "I hate that Bradley's done this to her." I set the letter down on my bed. "She's in pain and she's lonely. Her friends won't even let her talk about it."

    Logan's face lit up. "I have an idea." He tore off a piece of paper from the edges of one of his letters, scribbled something on it, and handed it to me. It looked like a phone number.

    "What's this for?"

    "It's Alisha's phone number," he explained. I still wasn't following though.

    Logan sighed in mock exasperation. "Give it to Joy. I bet they'd be great friends. They don't even live that far away from each other. She could even help her join the online group video chat."

    "What's that?"

    "Several girls that know people in this platoon all will do a group video chat every so often," he replied. "Alisha says it's a good place to just talk and vent--overall just not feel so alone. It sounds like it would be perfect for Joy. She could use a bigger support system."

    I wrapped my arms around Logan. "Thank you so much."

He smiled and laughed. "We can hug later, you've got a letter to write."

I grabbed my paper and pen out of my bag.

Dear Joy,

    I'm sorry to hear that you're still not doing so well, but I think I have something that might help. My friend Logan has a girlfriend who is part of an online video chat group of a bunch of girls who all know people from this platoon. Her name is Alisha Anderson and her number is 4023065935. You should try to contact her. I don't want to force you to do anything, but I think you'd benefit from more supportive friends. Please think about joining. I hope you start to feel better soon.

--Daniel

(Will's PoV)

    Christian had been gone for over an hour. The guards had taken him away for interrogation. I kept wringing my hands, attempting to distract myself, but to no avail.

    "Do they normally take this long?" I asked repeatedly.

    Ryan shrugged. "I've lost all concept of time at this point, but I don't think so."

    I let out a pained sigh. I waited and waited until finally the guards dragged him in. His thick hair was coated with blood and his head hung towards his chest. Without thinking, I screamed. "What did you do to him?"

    In an instant, the two guards dropped him to the ground. The one on his left side took out his shock rod and held it to my mouth--its tip touching my braces. "You ever question me again and I'll shock you right in that metal mouth of yours," he threatened.

    I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with fear for both myself and Christian, who was still on the ground at this point. Though I didn't say another word, the guard followed through on his end of the threat.

    I immediately lost my footing and screamed in pain. The metal from my braces must have been a conductor for the electricity. My whole body ached, but my mouth throbbed.

    "Anyone else?" He challenged.

    A deadly silence filled the room.

    The guards left and locked the door after slamming it shut.

    I managed to crawl over to Christian.

    He squinted. "Will? Will, is that you?"

    "Yes. Yes it's me." It hurt to talk, but I wanted to reassure him.

    He exhaled. "That was brave and stupid. Are you okay? How are you feeling?" His speech was somewhat slurred.

    "Forget about me. What about you?" I questioned.

    He tried to respond, but he ended up vomiting. A lot of it got on me, but I didn't care. I was more concerned with the fact that it looked like he was throwing up blood.

    "He needs help," I screeched.

    Parker scoffed. "Oh sure. Let's just take him up to the prison camp hospital wing."

    I fought back tears. "But we have to do something."

    "What the hell can we do?" Brady exclaimed.

    Christian tugged on my shirt. "He's right," he said weakly. "I'm not gonna make it."

    Tears were starting to roll down my face. "No, no no, don't say that."

    "It's...is okay," he told me. "Just stay here."

    I stayed by him, hugging onto his arm, refusing to let him go. I had so much I wanted to say to him still, but I didn't even know where to start so we sat there in silence.

    After several minutes, he turned to me. "Will," he could barely muster out. "Take care of yourself." Then his eyes began to close and his head dropped.

    I quickly tried to prop him up. "No...no," I pleaded, but it was no use.

    Ryan came over to touch his wrist. Within a few moments, he said, "there's no pulse."

    I hugged Christian's arm tighter. "No, come back," I wailed.

    Brady pulled me away. "I'm sorry dude, but we gotta go put him with the other dead bodies."

    "No," I cried, still being dragged away.

    "It's for our safety," he said. "I mean, yeah it's unsafe for there to be dead bodies in here regardless, but the least we can do is put them all in a single corner."

I wiped my eyes. "It's not fair, he was only nineteen."

    "And I'm only fifteen," Parker retorted. "News flash: the war sucks." After a few seconds he caught himself and sighed. "Look Will, I'm sorry. I know you two were close. You're right about it not being fair. It's not, but that's just the way it is and we can't change it. At least, not from here"

    Brady and Ryan dragged Christian's lifeless corpse to the back corner of the cell, and I sobbed like I never had before.

(Justin's PoV)

    Lately, I had found myself reading more and more of my books on China and warfare at the expense of my school textbooks. Granted, since I had been gone for over a year I had already finished everything I brought with me by this point, but still, I couldn't understand why I wasn't as drawn to my old textbooks as I used to be. Earlier on, I had been so excited to return to school, and while I still was, the concept of school seemed too foreign to me now.

    I forced myself to leaf through my Calculus textbook, only to find nothing inspired me. I had already learned or taught myself everything in that book.

    As I sighed and closed the book, I heard Holly call out my name, as well as a few of the other guys'. Intrigued by the prospect of mail, I walked over to her and she handed me an envelope. Looking down, I saw Audrey's name. I had heard from her a few times, mainly for birthdays and big holidays, but this seemed out of the blue. It was a nice surprise though. I appreciated her thoughtful insight in our discussions. I took the letter back to my bed to read it.

Dear Justin,

    School got out a few days ago. I still can't get over the fact that you missed all of junior year. It was super stressful, but if anyone could thrive in that type of environment, it's you.

    Not only was it stressful, but it was also stimulating and engaging. I took the most interesting class called AP Lang. It changed my entire worldview. It got me to look at everything through an analytical lens--not just books. I know you're more of a STEM person, but you would have loved it (after kind of hating it at first). It was challenging, but immensely rewarding.

    Sorry if this letter seems sort of random, but the truth is, I miss talking to you. If you'd like, I was hoping we could write more often. If you want the same, reply back as soon as you can.

--Audrey

    Audrey had been challenged. I had known her since elementary school and that girl never found anything hard. My mind yearned for intellectual stimulation and the rest of me craved companionship. I decided to write back immediately.

Dear Audrey,

    Don't be sorry. It's always great to hear from you--no matter what the occasion.

    But this AP Lang class you mentioned intrigues me. I long to be challenged as you were. I want to think as opposed to merely spouting off facts and numbers. Please teach me everything you've learned.

    I'm not saying you have to, but I would very much like it if you did. It's been over a year since I've learned something new, and longer than that since I've truly learned anything. If anyone can light up my mind, it's you, Audrey. Teach me all you can on paper, and we can pick up the rest when I return home. I'm glad you wrote to me. It's nice to have another brilliant mind to talk to.

(Tristan's PoV)

    I glanced at my envelope to see Kierra's scribble of a signature. I opened it up to reveal her writings.

Dear Tristan,

    It sucks that you're missing out on so much. I mean you probably love the fact that you've missed all the homework of "hell year", but there's still so much more. Like driving, competitions, prom (although we would've probably said "screw the whole thing" and stayed home playing video games in my basement), but still even being able to actively skip prom is a milestone too.

    Did Kierra think she was making me feel better with this or something?

    It's just hard to believe senior year will be starting soon and you're still not going to be here. It's got me thinking. What are they going to do with you all after the war does end? Are you going to have to finish high school? Will they pay for secondary education? Once the war is over, we're going to have an influx of young men without a complete high school education. What if you can't get jobs because of it? Will we have enough people to fill those careers. Lately I've been worried about more than just your immediate safety. What has Washington done? It's so careless--at least I hope it was incompetence rather than malice that led them to the draft. They've stunted the education of the younger generation. Is this their way of keeping us in submission until they die?

    Maybe I'm being overdramatic, but as I've learned more as a person, the lasting consequences of the war are becoming scary to think about. I still can't quite fathom how our country sent children to war--a unanimous decision nonetheless. It makes me wonder what they could possibly do next.

    I'm sorry to burden you with all of this. I'm just scared. Try to stay safe.

--Kierra

    I set her note down and sighed. Kierra didn't take fear lightly. The longer this war went on, the older I became with only a half of sophomore year education. What could I do after all this?

    I turned to Gavin. "What do you think we'll do after the war?"

    He shrugged. "Depends on how old we are."

    "But that's just it," I continued. "If we're well into our twenties, do we really wanna go back to high school? Are we gonna have enough education to get a GED?"

    Gavin thought for a moment. "I don't know. I always assumed I would go to trade school or something anyway. Ya know, blue collar work."

    No offense to Gavin, but I didn't want to do blue collar work. I had always pictured myself as a college graduate with a business job. That had always been my plan. I had never even thought of another plan. But as time went on, the vision of my future in a suit and tie began to look more and more like a camouflage uniform.

(Connor's PoV)

July 11th.

He would've been 18 today.

We were supposed to have graduated two months ago. We could've gone to college and lived together.

And now he wasn't living at all.

And it was all my fault.

The image of his helpless face right before the bullet pierced his skull was burned into my memory forever.

I would give anything to have Aaron back. I'd say that I'd trade my life for his, but honestly that wouldn't be that powerful of a statement since I didn't value my own life.

Sean crawled up to sit on the foot of my bed. "Are you okay, Connor?"

I shook my head. "It's Aaron's birthday today."

"I know," he told me. "I'm sad too."

I didn't have the right to be sad when I was the one who caused this. Sean looked so broken and hollow. Guilt ate away at me, eroding my insides. "I'm sorry I did this to you."

Sean immediately sat upright and wiped his eyes. "No. No. It's not your fault."

"I kicked him and he fell through the barricade," I reminded him.

"It was an accident," he chimed in.

I turned away, but Sean tugged on my arm. "This wouldn't have happened if we weren't drafted in the first place. If it's anything's fault, it's the war's, not yours."

"Why couldn't it have been me?" My voice cracked as I spoke.

"But that wouldn't be any better," Sean interjected.

"Why not?" I challenged.

He paused for a moment, and then spoke softly. "Think of how sad Aaron would be. I can't even imagine it."

But I could.

Back when we were eleven, Aaron came running down into my basement. He wrapped his arms around me and sighed with relief.

"Connor!" His voice was shaking.

"What's going on?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

Still hugging me, he responded, "I am now, it's just--"

"Get out, homos!" Jordan's voice interrupted him. He pulled the two of us apart to smack me.

Aaron pulled me closer to him. "Come on, let's go to my house."  His whole body was stiff.

Once we got to his bedroom, I asked him again, "what's wrong?'

He blinked away tears several times before tripping over his words. "Last night...I had a dream that...that Jordan killed you."

"It was only a dream, dude." I tried to comfort him.

"But it could happen," he sobbed. "You know he would do it. That's why it felt so real. It could easily happen and I'm so scared it will." He paused to wipe his eyes. "I'm sorry for being emotional. I just don't know what I'd do without you."

    As much as I deserved to die, Aaron would have been crushed if the situation had been reversed. He wouldn't have deserved to be in my place now. Ever since we were little, he had been terrified of  it. I don't think it ever even crossed his mind that he might've died first.

    Sean hugged onto me. "I miss him too."

    The only good that came out of this was Aaron would never be forced to live in a world without me. My punishment was continuing to exist in a world without him.

(Clayton's PoV)

    Just before lights out, Sgt. Blake barged into the main room.

    I groaned before he could even open his mouth.

    "I've made an executive decision," he announced.

    "Cuz that went so well the last time," Trevor muttered.

    And of course, Justin had to put in his two cents. "Actually, the president signs executive orders, not decisions. Plus the draft wasn't an executive order anyway. It was suggested by the president but ultimately passed through congress. It was one of the fastest and only unanimous bills to ever be passed..." His voice trailed off as soon as he realized no one cared.

    Sgt. Blake cleared his throat irritably. "Getting back to my executive order. I've decided we're going to be engaging in offense fighting."

    I nearly fell off my bed. Luckily I was on the bottom bunk.

    We all began protesting.

    "But why?"

    "But isn't it more dangerous?"

    "But who's gonna guard the base?"

    He attempted to answer all of our questions: "Because I said so. Yes. You'd know if you'd let me finish."

    We backed down from surrounding him.

    "Not all of you are gonna be offense fighting. I'm taking half of you to go out and look for the guerrillas. The rest of you will stay here with Lt. Jason to guard the base."

    We obviously hadn't been out of school long enough because Tristan raised his hand. "I volunteer to be in Lt. Jason's group."

    Sgt. Blake just scoffed. "You don't get to pick. And for even thinking I would let you, I'm adding you to my group along with Gavin, Landon, Matteo, Kent, Connor, Christopher, Alan, Michael, Daniel, and Trevor."

    "So close," Trevor sighed.

    Hell yeah! I was in Lt. Jason's group. We weren't gonna be doing shit.

"Holly," Sgt. Blake called. A few moments later she came running in. "Half of us are going to be out searching for guerillas," he informed her. "You're included in that half." For some reason her face lit up. "Not like that," he cut her off. "Since offensive fighting is more dangerous it makes sense to have a nurse at our side."

Her expression died down. "Of course," she said quickly.

"Pack as much essential medical supplies that your weak little arms can carry," he ordered her. "As for the rest of you, pack a bag with several days worth of food. There isn't a set date for how long we'll be gone, but we leave first thing in the morning."

While half of the guys started to pack, I went back to sleep. They left first thing in the morning.