letter draft my
Summary: well this is actually my draft letter, but an alternative ending. So this is starting right after the call in chapter 3.
Chap. 1
Click.
I walked back to my bed or as we call it a cot. It's not pretty comfortable as a real bed, but its decent enough. I was thinking of writing a letter back home. Should i? I mean they don't care. They would probably rip it up, throw it away, or spill beer or cake on it. You know what? They probably do care. It's all in my head.
I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started writing:
Dear Sodapop, Darry, and gang,
Hey ya'll! How is Tulsa? I bet it aint as hot there then it is here. It is so hot here my clothes are dripping with sweat! How are the socs? They still jumping us greasers? I hope not. Well here in 'Namis ok I guess. I just don't know what to feel anymore. I am a murder though. That is for sure. I kill many young boys and men every day. But I guess they deserve it for killing my friends. Well I have to go. Its lights out. I will hopefully come home soon.
First Lt. Curtis
After I finished the letter I put it inside of its envelope and stuck it in the mail bag. That's when I heard shouts outside. I looked and saw bullets flying. Another fight. Another life lost to war I thought to myself putting on my helmet and grabbing my rifle and sling my bag on my shoulder.
I walked out or ran out the door feeling bullets whizz fast me left and right. I saw mark and the rest of his gang but not Chris. Where the hell is the kid? Hasn't he gotten hurt enough?
I was too busy looking for Chris when I was shoved to the ground.
"What the hell!" I said enraged aout what just happened
I looked at the body laying on me. When I flipped it on its back I almost broke. There laying on my lap was Tom.
"TOM! Wake up. Please. I was supposed to die. Not you. PLEASE!"
Tom just lay motionless on my lap, a bullet hole in his chest. I suddenly got furious again. It wasn't my fault. It was the gooks! I stood up but carefully to lay him baclk down. I shut his eyes, said my last goodbyes, and turned away marching straight to a gook and punched him square in the nose. I felt a smile reaching my lips as the blood was flowing from his nose. Ha, he deserved it. I got my rifile and shot every gook I saw. One dead. two. Three. On and on the numbers went higher and higher. I shot and reloaded. Shot and reloaded. Those two words were etched in my brain. They were like breathing and blinking.
As I saw my friends get shot, I became more devastated. I was losing to many friends tonight. Too many. When our Sargent said it was over, we headed back to base. When I saw how many of us were left I almost broke. Three that's how many. THREE! It was four in total including me. It was Danny, Mike, Mark, and I.
"Alright troops, you arfe all going to a different squadron. I am getting new troops. But first you are going to training base again. Get ready boys. You are going to be flying!" said our Sargent.
A/N: so guys how was that? I want to know if I should continue this. Please r&r!
Thanks!
Mk