CK&C- Kates Break Off
October 8th –

I, Elizabeth May Elroy, have written my brother, Charles, to see how he is doing. So far there has been no response.

October 11th –
I fear the worst, diary. Charles has not yet replied! I know it’s early…but I fear my brother is gone…

***
Charles Elroy stood at the entrance to his own house. He had been gone for nearly three years, only to find his house abandoned. He made his way around the back. Charles was twenty-one and would soon be going to University. Of course that would only be after the war. In the backyard, he remembered it like he had been there the day before. There were two trees, now stripped of their leaves. The leaves lay scattered about on the ground, whisking around as the wind picked them up. Charles looked about and saw the old swing his father had made. It was briskly swaying with the now howling winds. He sat down on it and closed his eyes, placing his head in his hands. Life itself had demolished all over the world, and everyone who was left, were still fighting.
It seemed like years before Charles stood up. Never begin one to support the war; he had defended his opinion for many weeks. Those weeks turned into months, and he won. He was sent to guard the Queen. Though he knew at one point that he wouldn’t be guarding the queen until the war was over, he didn’t think it would be this soon. He was to report to camp in 24 hours, but he now knew he’d be going back sooner. His family had either moved or died, and he didn’t want to face either fact. After taking a quick look around, sighing, and stretching from his spot on the swing, hoe got up. Frowning he walked to the font of the house, picked up his bags, and started walking the five miles towards base camp, where he would spend the night there before being shipped off to wherever they needed him.
Finally, after an exhausting hour he came to base camp, only to find it completely deserted. Walking around he wondered where everyone was. They hadn’t left already had they? He threw his bags down immediately and picked up his pace, eventually running. He looked everywhere, looking for any signs of life. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a horn blew. Shifting his gaze, his head, his whole body, he saw thousands upon thousands of men pouring over the rise. They weren’t his own men. They were enemy forces. Turning he started running east, as they had come from the west. Dodging in between tents he dashed into the forest.

* * *

September 22nd-

News has spread throughout the world. A British sailor going by the name of Nadia Noel killed Jacques Guevara. Yes, a girl. Who ever heard of a girl sailor? It is weird. James, the boy next-door, won’t stop bugging me. He thinks that my brother, Charles, is alive. He can’t be… can he?

September 31st-

Yes. Today is Halloween. Yet I fear I must miss it, for if I were to go outside in this plundering rain, I will surely catch a cold. At this point, to catch a cold, would probably lead to ammonia…or worse. I wish Charles were here…

***

For many nights did Charles Elroy wander the forest in search of food and shelter. The many men, whom had swooned over the hillside, were gone. Past the town, down into the prairies. There, they would kill the many women and children, for the men were still fighting, or had been slaughtered in the war already. The day was a musty gray colour, covering the whole forest in a deep haze of a fog. This, Charles could not stand. Dare he leave the forest’s cover? Nay. He chose to stay, where he knew he would be safe for the time being.
Today would be like no other. Today, he would find out his true meaning of being born; and fighting, was not it. Charles Elroy was not born a warrior, and that showed in his lack of skills to battle others. Though, of course, he could kill many a man with the guns provided by the government. Even now, though, the government was slouching in it’s finance. The world was at war; and no one was going to stop, until they won. Of course, no one would. No one would, because there is no real winner of a battle. Each side spilled blood; therefore, each was guilty of slaughtering their own animal race. No other animal race did that; excluding a few. Humans were not born to fight, but to live peacefully among others. So why did they fight for? Land fortune and government.
Charles sat, in the only place he could call home now, a hollowed out log. Which he could squeeze into, with a bit of elbowroom. Here, he slept, and stayed during the night. Every day he made notches in the wood of this great tree which he had called ‘The Den’ Since this is what some animals did, for their beds. Great. Now he was beginning to be shifted into the category of a mere ‘animal’. Though, he was no mere animal, and never would be. Soon enough the fog started to disperse, and the forest became a bit clearer. Thinking to build a fire, he started out around his ‘den’, looking for some firewood. Coming across a fallen, rotting, but very dry log, he picked some pieces up, and trudged back to the pit where he had his fires. Quite quickly his stack piled up, and he had enough for his fire. It was starting to grow dark, so he had to act quickly. Earlier that day, he had caught a rabbit in the contraption he made from twine. Slowly he took out his pocket knife, and gutted the creature. As blood spilt to Mother Nature’s floor, he stepped back and watched. The crimson liquid just seemed to keep oozing. Finally he picked it up, and scooped out the innards. Washing his hands in the creek near by, as well as the rabbit, he took the knife and skinned the tiny creature. Some time later, as he was cooking his meal, Charles felt a small insect land on his neck. Thinking none of it, he yawned and waited for his dinner to cook. Minutes later, there was a soft crunching sound nearby. Slowly he moved towards his gun, and slipped it towards his hand. Before it ever reached his armpit, he fell backwards- unconscious.

***

November 9th-

James reminded me once again today- that my brother is still alive. I do not believe that he is anymore, nor to any of my family. My little brother is sick, we think he has scarlet fever. Mom is so stressed out because she has not heard back from my brother yet. My dad is also sick, but that is because he is nearing seventy…please Charles… help father.

November 10th-

My aunt and her two kids were killed today. There was a bombing in the outskirts of town. Apparently there is a large supplies area located there. Or rather, was located there. I do hope that no one else is injured… this is surely a war I myself will never forget. So many innocent lives have been stolen, and for what?

***

Slowly Charles came to consciousness. Lifting his arm, he used all his power to touch his forehead- groaning lightly. Every part of his body ached, as if he had been mauled to near death by a lion. Attempting to sit up, he fell backwards. A dull ache set inside his head, as he slowly began to slip into dreamland once more. Just before he fell unconscious again, he heard an odd sound. As if it were a soft hum. Then his world went black once again, and all noise was drawn away.
“Is he dead?” Came a low, groggy voice. What seemed like hours to Charles had only been mere minutes. His eyes felt like stones, therefore he could not open them. Footsteps were heard near by. The crunching of leaves sounded like bombs being dropped right in front of Charles. Trying to move his left hand, a sharp pain shot through his whole body. “Erg…” He mumbled as his mind went numb with excruciating pain. Another voice was cold and raspy, “Na, he isn’t dead, boy. He’s just a tad bit hurt. Damn kid moved when I tried to hit that spy.” Charles slowly lifted his eyelids, blinking a few times. His vision was blurry for a few seconds, before five faces came into view, four men and one woman. Groggily sitting up, he looked at his surroundings. He lay on a grey blanket that had been spread on the ground. There was a quad, and two jeeps off to one side of him. The other side held a small camp area with tents and a fire.