Quiet Loud

Age:3

One year.

Lincoln Loud had been here for months. Taken from his family on their vacation, in broad daylight. He wasn't even sure where 'here' was. Lincoln could barely remember the day they took him, they just reached out and grabbed him, they'd ran into a car and drove off. His family didn't notice him until he was halfway into the car.

He'd spent the first hour of the ride crying, and the rest of the ride with silent sobs after the people that took him had slapped him across his face for giving them headaches with his nonstop cries. They drove the entire day, only stopping for gas twice. The first time they'd stopped, Lincoln had tried to make a break for it, but was tackled by one of the men in the car. Lincoln tried to struggle his way out of the man's grasp but was met with a fist to his gut. They had to tie his feet together after that. He didn't struggle or make a single noise the rest of the ride.

Lincoln had spent a total of two days inside that car. He was given no food and no bathroom breaks. This resulted in Lincoln wetting his pants, and another backhand from the man next to him. They had entered a compound, which was surrounded by what looked like large walls made of dirt and rocks, through a makeshift fence that rolled back into place as they parked, blocking Lincoln's only exit.

The two men sitting in the front exited the vehicle as another man walked up to them. They were speaking in a language Lincoln did not know. He did feel that they were talking about him though. When the man that was sitting next to the driver had waved his arm in Lincoln's direction the man sitting next to lincoln had opened the door and dragged him out of the vehicle. Lincoln didn't struggle, he didn't want them to hurt him anymore than they already did.

Lincoln was brought to the man and made to stand in front of him. The seemed to look Lincoln over, the same as Lincoln was doing to him. To Lincoln, the man was wearing dark green pants with a matching shirt. He had a weirdly shaped hat that seemed to lean to the side, it was a dirty, faded red with a shiny pin off the the side that wasn't leaning. He also had a vest on him with lots of pockets, they seemed to bulge out a bit.

"Nilipowatuma huko kuleta kwangu askari! (I sent you out there to bring me soldiers!)" Lincoln jumped as the green man yelled at the men that had taken him.

"You walikuwa wamekwenda kwa siku tano na ungekuwa marehemu kwa moja! Hii ni nini kuniletea! Hii dhaifu kidogo shit kwamba inaonekana kama upepo bila kufanya hivyo kuanguka juu!"(You were gone for 5 days and you were late by one! This is what you bring me! This weak little shit that looks like the wind would make it fall over!")

Lincoln could tell the green man was angry, he wasn't sure what about but he felt that it was about him. The green man continued to yell at Lincoln's kidnappers for a few minutes before dismissing the two that sat in the front. Lincoln watched the two of them walk off into the direction of the tents set up off to one of the sides of the compound.

"What is your name." said a stern voice, Lincoln, still watching the two figures disappearing into the tents, realised it was the green man, he had asked him a question. Turning back to the man, Lincoln stuttered out "Wh-wha?" The man seemed more annoyed and reached out and flicked Lincoln's forehead. Hard. Lincoln had yelped in pain as he reached out to his forehead, rubbing the now stinging area.

"Don't make me repeat myself. Next time I won't just use one finger." The green man crossed his arms together, standing straighter as he repeated his earlier question. Lincoln had tried to answer the question, but he could only stutter out the first part of his name before being interrupted.

"Nyeupe Kidogo(Neh-Oo-Peh, Kid-oh-Go), That is your name now. If you wish to eat you will do as you are told. If you try to escape you will be whipped, ten times the first time and twenty the second and so on. Do I make myself clear! "

Lincoln could only whimper as he nodded in affirmative to the green man's demands. The next twelve months were hectic as Lincoln adjusted to his new life. Lincoln was forced to sleep on the floor of a tent with three other men. The men had small cots while lincoln used the corner of the tent and leftover scraps of a tarp for a blanket.

Lincoln's days were filled with cleaning, cooking, loading bullets into magazines and whatever else he was told to do. If he wasn't fast enough or he'd mess up somehow the people would hit him. If he messed up bad enough they would beat him, or so they would say. Lincoln had yet to make a large mistake with his work.

Today seemed hot, hotter than usual. The air felt thick with heat, not a cloud in sight. Lincoln adjusted his makeshift Shemagh, trying to shade his eyes from the sun. He had found some old, ripped cloth to wrap around his face after seeing the adults using what looked like scarves to wrap around their heads.

Lincoln had a strange feeling about today. The people around him seemed to be on edge, as if they knew something was going to happen. Currently, Lincoln is sitting on a dirty blue tarp, cleaning the insides of gun. He wasn't sure what kind of gun it was, but he knew he had to clean them. Lincoln had no problems cleaning the weapons parts but putting it back together was another story. The people don't trust Lincoln to put the weapons back in proper working order, so as soon as he finished cleaning the parts someone would come by and collect them, put them back together, and take them away.

"nyeupe kidogo! Come here!" Exclaimed Enzi.

Enzi, as it turned out, was the name of the green man with the red hat. Lincoln put the part he was working on down, stood up and jogged over to Enzi. Enzie stood at the edge of the shooting range, a small assortment of weapons laid out on the table next to him. Lincoln stood in front of Enzi as he retrieved a weapon from the table. Enzi looked the weapon over, taking out the magazine and pulling back the charging handle before handing it over to Lincoln.

Lincoln struggled to hold the large rifle in his hands. He let the butt of the rifle sit on the ground as Enzi handed him a loaded Magazine.

"Kidogo, we are going to war soon. Today you will learn how to become a Soldier" Enzi grabbed his own weapon and instructed Lincoln to copy his movements in loading his rifle.

[Lincoln POV]

"Raise your weapon" Enzi demanded. Complying, I shakily raised my gun, barrel aiming in the general direction of the targets. "In your shoulder, like a man!" He yelled, as he moved the butt of my gun to my shoulder. The man checked me over, before exclaiming "Come on, lean into it!" grabbing the back of my head and pushing it forward while holding my waist, forcing me to lean forward.

After he readjusted me he looked me over once more. "Keep your gun up, and aim for the heart." Aiming down the range I focused onto one of the targets, the weight of the gun making me quiver as I tried to align my sights. I pulled the trigger causing the gun to go off, and me to take a couple steps back. Regaining my composure I looked at the target; I hit it, dead center of the chest. The man chuckled. "Good. Now you are a soldier."

[Lincoln POV End]

It was at those words that Lincoln couldn't help but have a sense of foreboding wash over him. He hoped that he would be able to go home soon, but it had been so long now. Lincoln wasn't sure if he even remembered what his home looked like.

Age 4

February

Lincoln had been fighting alongside Enzi's people for a while now. They were, and still are, fighting over some kind of mineral deposit. Lincoln's main job consisted of running ammo to the forefront of the battlefield, as well as scavenge anything usefull off of the dead bodies. It had taken Lincoln months to get used to the dead bodies, at least enough to not gag and vomit over every one he went through. He had been shot on occasion, but thankfully they never pierced the kevler he scavenged off the enemies.

Lincoln had also participated in some firefights. He wasn't strong enough to carry a rifle, but there were rifles mounted specifically for his use during some fights. Though he couldn't carry a rifle he still had a pistol strapped to his chest in a way that he could take it out with little problem if he needed it.

After spending who knows how long with Enzis people Lincoln knew, without a doubt, he hated them. Lincoln didn't want to have anything to do with them. He'd seen these people do such awful things, he'd seen them burn down villages and steal anything they could from them. Killing indiscriminately, practically firing at anything that moved. It sickened him.

Currently, Lincoln is standing guard at the front entrance of Enzi's Mineral deposit compound. There are three other men guarding alongside him. Lincoln wished he could leave this place but every time the thought crossed his mind another would come along soon after. Where would he go. He had nowhere else to go and that's even if he makes it away from Enzi's people.

Well, if given the opportunity, Lincoln would leave. Anyplace is better than here. Little did Lincoln know, the opportunity would show itself very soon.