So this first one is about war, and since it was a dream the whole war process doesn't make sense, but hey, what can I say. I had no control.

Oh and I changed the names of the people that exist in real life, like my friends or myself. Not that I don't trust you lovely people, it's just....I don't trust you. XD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was an argument, or a disagreement, or a falling out between two major world powers that ended in a great war. The powers were America and a country whose name I am unable to recall, so I shall just call it Tiel. The cause of the war was silly and childish, but that is all I was told about the matter.

Both sides needed as many people as they could get to fight for them. They drafted all who were able―men, women, and even children, the youngest of these being age 9. The people left behind were the mothers in maternity, their young children, and the sick and elderly. In the months before the war, people drafted received letters from the government saying that they would be needed the case of a battle. When the children received letters, the population was outraged, and they tried to protest, but the government refused. Eventually the heartbroken people gave in and were forced to let their children take arms. And so it was in both countries.

With the threat of combat hanging like a heavy cloud over the heads of many, Americans were desperate, grasping at any chance at peace, so they sent gifts and pleasantries to the people of Tiel, feeding their poor, sheltering their homeless, and engaging with their schools. It didn't seen to help, but we tried nonetheless.

Most of the schools in America were emptied, the children being sent off to basic training. Some schools were lucky, and they completed basic training early, and they were able to go overseas and visit the schools of Tiel. My school was one of these.
Immediately after completing basic training, we were given a choice of whether or not to go to Tiel and try to make friends. Though we all knew the danger, it was a near unanimous vote of yes. Two days later, we were spread out among a 4th-10th grade elementary school in the town of Crow, which was a few miles down the road from Hazar, a major city in Tiel. This school, called Hael Elementary, was about a mile away from a large field that went on for miles. I thought uneasily that it looked like a perfect battlefield, and I could tell other people thought the same.

We were allowed to join classes with the Tielians, choosing whichever grade we wished. As a result, the classes got all mixed up, and it turned into more of a social event than a learning period. I chose to join what was supposed to be an 8th grade class, but there were kids of all ages packed inside. I had two of my great friends with me―Carson Ridge and Mikayla Micklbar. I sat with them near the back of the classroom, silently taking in my surroundings.

At first, it was tense and awkward between the two peoples, but eventually a little girl in the back of the class broke the ice when she said, "But Mia, that girl has a ukahlely (ukulele), and I NEVER get a ukahlely!"

An older girl, who must have been Mia, shushed the little one as the whole room burst out laughing. The little girl was referring to me, because I did in fact have my ukulele with me. Looking at Carson and Mikayla, I tilted my head in the direction of the little girl, and they nodded in agreement. We got up and walked to the back of the room amidst the now chatty room.

The little girl's eyes lit up when she saw us walking towards her with the ukulele. She tugged on Mia's sleeve and pointed excitedly. "Look! The ukulele!"

Mia looked up at the three new people.

"Hi," she said casually. "I'm Mia, and this is my little sister Anita."

"I'm Mikayala," Mikayla introduced herself, extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you," Mia smiled, giving Makayla a high five instead of a handshake.

"Carson," Carson said, waving at the little girl.

"And I'm Ana," I said, and not exactly sure what to do next, I put my fist out for a fist bump. Anita squealed in delight and bumped my fist with hers before her big sister could beat her to it.

"Can I please play your ukahely?" Anita asked solemnly, giving me big, brown puppy dog eyes.

My heart melted down into a puddle at my feet when I looked into those eyes. "Of course sweetheart. Here." I handed her the ukulele. She took it reverently, sitting down in her chair and placing it gently on her lap. Then she began to play.

My jaw dropped at the sound. This little girl was amazing! Her fingers flew across the strings in a chorus of notes and chords in a lively tune that I didn't recognize. She played with ease, the melody flowing out in an ensemble of effortless sounds. The build got steadily higher, rising up and making me hold my breath in wait, before a strong finish that ended with a little flourish of her fingers.

"That was incredible!" Makayla breathed.

"She made that one up herself," Mia said, her eyes shining with pride.

"She wrote that?" Carson asked in awe.

"What else can you play?" I asked, eager to hear more.

As it turned out, Anita knew every song imaginable, and because this was a dream, it made perfect sense that a nine year old knew every single song known to man on the ukulele. The day was spent with Mia and Anita, singing ourselves hoarse along with Anita's music, exchanging stories of our everyday lives, and seeing how many pink rubber bands we could put into Carson's hair.

Eventually, it was time to go to bed. For some reason, we were supposed to sleep in the classroom. So, when the time came and he teachers came by to tell us lights out, we all laid down on the floor and went to sleep.

I couldn't sleep though. I was thinking about the war. True, there was still a slight chance that it might not happen, but I knew in the back of my mind that it would. I started to cry, because it would mean that I would have to take up arms against Mia and Anita. Mia was my age, and she had a fun loving spirit and an amazing smile, and little Anita was only nine, and she had such kindness and innocence in her that I couldn't stand the thought of her even knowing about war, let alone fight in one.

Why did this have to happen? What was so bad that America and Tiel had to sacrifice their children to resolve it? The whole thing was stupid, utter idiocy. I wished it would stop. I wished that children would stop being sent off to basic training to fight in a battle where they didn't stand a chance of surviving. It was all so wrong.

We woke up the next morning to an overhead speaker.

Residents of Tiel, a deep male voice blared, startling everyone awake. I regret to inform you that the decision was made and is now final: we will go to war with the United states of America.

There was no sound to be heard for miles around.

Those who have been drafted are being summoned to their city's town hall to receive a short debriefing and their weapons. We expect everyone to be prepared by noon. Thank you.

The speaker clicked off. Everything was quiet. Many had tears forming in their eyes as all the Tielans stood up and began to form a single file line. They marched out of the door in unison, no doubt something they had learned in basic training. I craned my neck to get one last glimpse of my new friends, and I saw Mia looking back at me, her face streaked with tears, her mouth trembling. But she was quiet and obedient as she marched out of sight.

Carson, Mikayla and I were the only Americans left. We weren't sure what to do, so we sat alone in the dark, still crying silent tears as our hearts broke into a million pieces. About two hours later, a soldier wearing our colors burst through the door.

"You three!" He pointed when he spotted us. "Come with me. You're needed at the barracks."

We got into a train full of people, Americans and Tielians alike, and we were driven off to the field to prepare ourselves. On the train, I spotted Mia. She was crying. Anita was nowhere in sight. I rushed over to her asking if she was alright.

"I'm okay," she choked out. "But they took...they took Anita."

I felt a lump in my throat. "Where?" I breathed.

Mia shook her head. "I don't know. They said that they needed her for...something special." Mia let out a sob. "Then they just took her away!"

I hugged her tightly as she cried into my shoulder, "Shh, shh, I'm sure she's fine," I told her, although I wasn't sure who I was trying to assure―Mia, or myself.

"You there!" A soldier barked. "No conspiring with the enemy!"

He stormed over and moved to tear us apart. Before he could, I grabbed Mia's face in my hands and looked her in the eye. "Mia," I said desperately. "Don't die."

She nodded in response before covering her face with her hands and sobbing as the soldier grabbed my arm and roughly put me back between Carson and Mikayla.

"Ana, what's wrong?" Carson asked, noticing that I was crying.

"They took Anita," I whispered.

Mikayla put a hand over her mouth as she too began to cry. Carson put his fingers on the bridge of his nose and tried to be manly about it, but I could tell that he was crying too.

It was all so unfair. I wanted it to stop.

We reached the American barracks first. The train dropped us off there and continued along to the Tielian barracks on the other side of the field. Everyone was equipped with a rifle, a pistol, five clips of ammo, and a camouflage helmet.

A soldier came by and asked for our names. When we told him, he said that Carson was needed for cannon duty and that Mikayla was needed for machine gun duty. My heart sank as I realized that we would be separated. The soldier ushered them off, and I was left alone.

We all knew what we were doing, even the youngest of us—basic training had been long and brutal, and they made sure you walked away knowing a thing or two about guns. It was just saddening to see a little 10 year old boy strap the rifle across his back, knowing he was going to use it to kill another human being.

As I sat brooding, a soldier came up to me.

"Name?" He asked, studying his clipboard, not even bothering to look at me.

"Peterson, Ana," I answered crisply, speaking in the manner that they had taught us at basic training.

His eyes scanned the clipboard. "Yep, you're here. Come with me."

Confused, I followed him as instructed. I was told to stand with a group of other children who looked about my age, some younger. I asked if they knew what we were doing, but they were just as confused as I was. Adults in their uniforms passed by, each of them glancing pitifully at our rather large group. I wondered what was the matter. Had we done something wrong? Were they going to punish us?

"Get in formation!"

The command rang out among the American troops, and people scurried every which way to get where they were supposed to be. I was told to form a line with the other kids standing around me, and we did so. But something was wrong. No one was forming in front of us. I looked behind me and saw row after row of troops getting in line, but no one seemed to be moving in front of us. Then the realization hit me like a brick wall, making my blood turn to ice.

I was on the front line.

I was bait.

My heartbeat quickened and I started sweating profusely. I turned around again, looking for Carson or Mikayla, the only two familiar faces I could think of at the moment. I couldn't find them.

"Attention!"

I whipped my head around and faced my commander. Despite my quivering legs and fast breathing, my training kicked in and I straightened my back and put my hand on my forehead in a salute.

"March!"

The word was loud and clear, sending shivers down my spine and filling my heart with dread for what was to come. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to succumb to this terrible fate. But I had no choice.

I began to march.

The sound of hundreds of thousands of footfalls stomping in unison echoed across the plain, each step taking me closer to my doom. I wanted to run, to break away from this horror, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't turn around and search for my friends. I had to keep marching. I couldn't scream or flee. I had to keep marching. I couldn't go home and hide beneath the covers. I had to keep marching. I couldn't stop the war from happening.

I had to keep marching.

Finally we stopped at the center of the field as we waited for the Tielians to meet us. The whole American army stood silently in wait, our hearts pounding and our breath held. I took the chance of looking around for my friends, scanning the crowd behind me. I spotted a cluster of cannons, where my eyes found Carson. He was looking at me, his eyes wide in horror. I bit my lip and gave him a silent nod. He nodded back, his expression sorrowful. I then searched among the machine guns for Mikayla. When I spotted her, she was looking in another direction. She looked like she was searching for me as well. When her eyes found mine, and she realized where I was, I saw her gasp and put her hand over her mouth. I clenched my jaw, trying not to cry, but failing as a few tears slipped out. I nodded to her, and she nodded back, quickly putting her hand back down by her side in the proper attention stance.

I followed her example and turned around to stare at the empty field ahead of me.
The wait seemed to last forever, but finally we heard the distant marching of hundreds of thousands of more human beings coming to meet us at the battlefield. My heart slowed as they came into view. They looked so much like us—nearly the same uniform, just about the same weapons, and the same attack formation. I also noticed that they too had children on the front lines.

Then I noticed a particularly small girl marching along, her eyes trained ahead of her. Her helmet was a couple sizes too big, and it fell down, just about covering her eyes. The rifle in her hands also looked took big—her tiny hands could never reach the trigger. The pistol at her side hung loosely in the poorly tightened hilster, as if the person who had put it on her hadn't really cared about it. As she got closer, I saw that her big brown eyes were full of innocence. She didn't look like she fully understood what was about to happen, or why she was in the front of all of her people. She didn't seem to view the other side as a threat, and she didn't view the gun in her hands as a weapon. She was so small, so oblivious, so pure. It hurt to see her standing amidst all this cruelty.

Then I realized that the little girl was Anita.

I froze, my brain blanking and my limbs losing all feeling.

There was no way that Anita was on the front lines. There was absolutely no way. She couldn't be. Not the sweet, kind, beautiful little girl who had so much talent, so much love, so much life. Not her. Anyone but her.

But there she was. Anita, the little girl that I had only known for a day, but had grown so fond of. Anita, the little girl that had nothing to do with this war, who didn't deserve this fate. Anita, who was going to die on the front lines.

I barely had enough time to let this sink in when the Tielians halted. There was about a twenty-foot gap between the two armies, both of which were standing silent and still. The silence was thick and tense, each side holding their breath in anticipation.
I found myself hyperventilating. This had to stop. It was wrong. I didn't want to fight these people. I didn't hate them or want any of them dead, yet I was forced to pick up a gun and shoot to kill. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. I thought that maybe if I wished hard enough, I would wake up and realize that the war had just a been a bad dream, and we still lived in peace with the Tielans. Then the sound of gunfire snapped me out of my foolish hope.

There was no command to fire. There wasn't even a command to aim. All I knew was that the first shot rang out like a firecracker, and a moment later Anita fell.