Disclaimer: I don't own FMA... or these pants.
DAY 1, June 30st 1905
Dear Diary,
Normally I don't do this kind of thing, but… I'm not sure why I grabbed this book at the pit stop. Maybe it's the sense of something bad about to happen. I mean, why else would I be here?
I guess this is the part where I tell you who I am and all that crap. My name is Jean and I turn fifteen in twenty minutes. Maybe that's why I bought this damn book, to have a gift or something. Is it sad to buy yourself a gift? Yep, pretty much, but to me it sounded like a good idea. Better than the big fat nothing I would get otherwise. It's not that my family is neglecting me, it's just… well whatever they sent would never get here. In fact, here isn't even a place.
I know that one sounds weird but it ain't. Right now I'm sitting in the back of a military truck, on my way to hell. That's right, hell. You see, there is a war going on here in Amestris. I'd tell you how it started but I have the feeling the version I know is just a lie, so why bother even acknowledging it? I find it hard to believe a soldier like me shot a child. Oh, I forgot that part. I am indeed a soldier, or at least I will be soon enough.
I was a student at the Pre-Military Academy when this war first started. I was only ten, but that was old enough to know everything was changing. Most of my friend's parents pulled them out, but not mine. My Pa, he said it would be cowardly to run when my country needed me, so I stayed. I graduated and went on to the real Academy, not sure if I hated him or respected him every step of the way. I was a kid then, doing what Pa said was right, but does that excuse me now?
I'm not an idiot. This truck of my classmates isn't just another field trip. We are going to war.
I still can't get over that. This war was supposed to be over before I graduated, but now, it's pulling me away from school before I'm even done. Like I said earlier, I'm fifteen. The law clearly states the conscription age is eighteen and over. Don't worry though, only two of us are too young and therefore were stupid enough to volunteer. I never was a smart one. I'm here, in this smelly, sandy truck by choice. I am going to the encampment by choice. Does that mean, when I'm forced to kill, it too will be by choice?
I don't really want to think about that right now. It will be all I have to think about soon enough. I'd rather talk about that other cadet like me, the 'too young' one. I met her for the first time yesterday in the west meeting room of school. Her name is Hawkeye. She doesn't talk much, but that's fine by me. I wonder why she volunteered… probably being stupid like me.
Everyone else here are upperclassmen, old enough to fight but still without a rank. We are just a pile of Officer Cadets. That's right; I'm Officer Cadet Havoc, going off to war on his birthday and look at that, I've been fifteen for three minutes.
Happy Birthday Jean…
A/N: For the version with Jean's doodles and sketches, you'll have to go to my LJ account. Link is in my profile. ;)
-rix
A/A/N: My scanner broke so this fic will now be without pictures. I'm sorry.