(Kurt pov)
No one knows when it started but soon everybody was at war. Just yesterday did Europe bomb Oregon. More than 50 thousand people had been killed. All around the world, it was happening. Each country at it, as if in a competition to see who could cause more death and destruction. Africa had been looking for a truce, seeing as they didn't have many warriors, but then Russia set fire to many of its communities, making Africa go to extremes. They made a law: any man or woman above 15 is forced into the war; unless a mother that had to take care of children. Many countries, following this example forced 15+ into war.
I'm alone. Most of my family is in war. My mother, father, and older sister were forced into war. I was out in the woods with Quinn, my best friend when they came, my grandmother being the only one left there. She was killed. The Russians killed her; completely ignoring the Safe Home law that every other country had: everyone that was not in war, and, or seemed incapable of damage was to be left alone. Russians not being ones to play fair didn't care, many of them had been sneaking in the supposed "safe zones" and killed of anyone they saw.
I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. When a single tear fell from my eyes, I rubbed at it furiously. My family was out there fighting, while. I was here lying in soft couch with food, I didn't get to cry.
"Kurt, what's wrong?," Quinn asked. Her face a mask of worry. I found rage fill me up faster than I could control it.
"Me? I'm just dandy. Can't you tell?"
I could see Quinn visibly flinch at my words laced with sarcasm. "I...I'm sorry."
I cursed under my breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." I trailed off.
"Sad, alone, depressed," Quinn finished my sentence with a sigh.
"I just I feel like, my family is somewhere out there and I'm just here, feeling pity for myself. I, I feel useless." I didn't want to look up. I didn't want to see Quinn's face. She pitied me. Quinn lived into the woods, her parents were all for nature, and it seemed like the government skipped the few homes that were in the woods.
I stood up from my place on the couch and went up to the room me and Quinn were sharing, when it hit me. It was stupid and reckless but what did I have to lose? I turned to Quinn who was nervously watching me. Her eyes widened at my words.
"I'm going to fight in the war"
(Quinn pov)
I can't believe I'm doing this. It's crazy, but Kurt's my best friend. I can't just let him go. I'd probably just cry every day without him. Most people think I'm cold and heartless. Sometimes I am. Kurt is the only person other than my family that I would give anything for. Including my life.
"I've made up my mind, mom. I'm doing this." My mom sighed sadly.
"Be careful, baby" My two brothers were crying, my dad was trying to contain his tears, and my mom was right out crying and begging me not to go, though she knew it was useless.
I felt guilty watching them, but I knew I would feel even guiltier if I did not go for Kurt. I said my goodbyes to my family and started packing a few things. Water, some food, and an extra outfit. As I was walking to the door my dad placed a hand on my shoulder, in his hand he held something. My eyes widened in recognition. A gun. My dad placed in my grip. It was smooth black plastic, already charged. I shivered a little as the cold plastic hit my skin.
Kurt had left about 30 minutes before I decided to leave as well. He shouldn't be too far away.
I shivered slightly as cold wind passed me. I hope it won't get too cold, I didn't think I would be able to run well with many layers so I wore something simple. Black jeans, black undershirts, grey turtle neck, blue/black sweater, grey boots.
I copied Kurt's attire, since I had no idea what to wear. He had left wearing a black pair of skinny jeans, a black tank top, a grey/ purple long sleeved shirt, a grey sweater, and black boots.
I'm not sure I can survive this but I'm sure as heck going to try.
(Kurt pov)
It's deserted. That's the first thing I realized. It felt too alone, empty. Most people had been forced to war. And others were in hiding, fearing the same fate, or fearing immediate death, in hands of wandering Russians. I heard footsteps behind me. For the first time since I decided to fight, I'm scared.