Letters from a Soldier
Life's a funny thing, isn't it? We have the good times, and the bad. Some people have a life that is close to perfect, while others are cursed with so many hardships that sometimes life isn't worth living. And then you have those people; those people who help make everything better… who can change everything. I met one of those people, and it all began with a letter…
I stared at the steering wheel in front of me as though it held all the answers of the world. Why did I have to move? Why did it have to be in the middle of the year? Why did life have to be so hard? Of course, I got no answer. I sighed, looking at the dashboard; it was time to go. I begrudgingly moved out of the car, threw my bag over my shoulder, and moved towards the entrance.
I slouched in my chair. The classroom was quite dull, as was the personality of the teacher standing at the front. I'd managed to survive the stares and whispers all morning. I tuned them out.
"…ongoing assignment is part of a program that the school has signed up for. You will write a letter to a soldier serving overseas; become pen pals basically. You will need to keep copies of the letters both you and the soldier send as they will be marked and put towards your writing skills. You will put your letter in an envelope with the soldier's name on it and put it on my desk at the end of the lesson. Start writing your first letter today; I don't really care what you talk about. I suggest you start talking about your life."
I let out a heavy sigh. My life. You could write a book about it, but I can't say it would be interesting. The thump of an envelope landing on the desk woke me from my inner ramblings. I pulled out the slip of paper. Your soldier is Edward. At least three letters are expected to be exchanged between you and the soldier. You must at least discuss differences or similarities in your lives. This is a COMPULSORY assignment.
I pushed and weaved my way through the sea of students moving towards the cafeteria. To my great annoyance, the library was at the opposite end of the school to the cafeteria. The crowds gradually thinned and I finally found myself seated in an empty study booth in the corner of the library.
To Edward,
I really don't want to do this. I'm probably just an excited as you about this arrangement. Honestly, what are we meant to gain from these letters? Maybe a few words? A possible friendship with someone you'll never see?
I'm not sure what I'm meant to say. I guess I start with introducing myself and then I'll begin to tell you my life story. After all, the point of this assignment is to get to know each other, right?
My name is Bella. I'm seventeen. I really do not want to do this assignment, as you may have gathered. Today is my first day at this school, I moved from the city last weekend. I live with my stepbrother who I haven't spoken to in quite a while. I guess you could call me a loner at school; after all, I don't have any friends. I keep to myself. I stay away from people; avoid making friends. It's safer this way, no one can hurt you.
I don't have anything else to add, not yet. And by the way, I honestly do not care how your life is and what's been happening. We aren't friends, so why should I? But to be polite, and to get the marks necessary for this task, how are you?
Over and out soldier boy,
Bella.
The days began to blur into weeks, the weeks blurred into months. I had managed to avoid my brother of an afternoon and weekend when he decided to return home and drown his problems in alcohol. We had only exchanged a few pleasantries on the rare moments I saw him sober. I spent my time throwing myself into my books, exploring the town, or holing myself up in my room trying to find something to do.
I plonked myself down on a stool in the back corner of the art room. Plugging my iPod in, I drowned out the world around me. 'Only two more periods to go,' I told myself, 'then the weekend is yours'.
The scraping of a stool nearby and a tap on my shoulder woke me from my daydreaming. A boy stood there, politely waiting for the attention that I didn't plan on giving him. I raised my brow as if to ask, 'what'. He grinned toothily, then leant over and pulled my earphones out. I sighed, how much does it take for the people around here to realise you don't want to be friends?
"Well, at least you can hear me now, which is a start. I'm Jacob," said the boy, holding out a hand.
I quickly studied him. He had shaggy brown hair, emerald green eyes, and a body similar to that of a male Abercrombie model. Amazingly good looking, to say the least, but I wasn't interested in making any type of friends.
I nodded to indicate I had heard him, and ignoring his hand I turned towards the window and threw my earphones back in. I waited for the sound of shuffling feet to indicate he had left. But they never came.
Once again my earphones came out. I turned towards to the boy, exasperated. "What?" I snapped.
Surprise flitted over his features before he returned to an annoyed stance. "Look, don't ignore me like that. We're going to have to work together better than this if you want a decent mark."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"
Jacob raised his eyebrows, probably at the fact I hadn't been listening to something important. "You, me, we're partners for this big art assignment."
Great, group work.
