I kinda thought that an idea for a story like this would be kind of nice. I plan to put a lot of effort into this story. It's based on World War II, because I know that's always one of my favorite things to read about.
Stan's POV
I heard a knock on my back door, and automatically sprinted from my wooden chair.
"Hey Stan," my friends calls once I answer the door.
"Hey Kyle," I greet back, smiling and pulling him into a hug.
"Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but my mom thought it was too dangerous to be outside while it was light out. I really don't get it dude. The streets are becoming more crowded with those Jackboot guys every day," he explains.
"Don't worry," I laugh, "You're here at least, and that's all the matters to me."
He nods, "But I can't stay for long. The parents said I've gotta be home in thirty minutes."
I widen my eyes and frown, "But you just got here!"
"I know, but we've got certain rules over where I live."
"You only live right down the street," I reason.
He shakes his red head of hair.
"Doesn't matter. Mom says that the Jews have different rules."
"Speaking of that, why are the Jews getting treated differently lately? I don't get it. In the past few months, things have been changing," I shrug.
Kyle comes and takes a seat next to me at the table.
"I really don't know. My parents aren't telling me anything, no matter how many times I've asked them." He props up an elbow on the table. "There's a lot going on now, but it's probably only temporary. It's gonna get better soon enough."
I smile, "You're probably right, dude," I nod in response. "And if you're mom and dad aren't telling you, it's probably because it's nothing to bad to worry about."
"Yeah… I need to stop worrying," he presses his palm against the side of his face. "It's just so confusing."
"Let's just talk about something else for now," I begin, "How's Ike?"
He looks a little distant before he parts his lips and answers me, "Ike's sick. No one thinks he's gonna make it very long," Kyle sighs, pulling his knees up to his chest.
"What happened to him?" I stare wide eyed at my other thirteen year old friend, concern lingering on my face.
"It's all the smoke from that work site down the street. I tried to read some of the signs earlier until I found out that they were all in German," he frowns.
"Poor Ike, but what do you think that they're building down there?" I suspiciously interrogate.
"The only thing I understood what that it said work. But the rest is just foreign to me."
"Maybe it's a work site? They're probably building something."
"Yeah, it doesn't look to major or anything."
He laughed as did I, and the front door swung open. "Stanley, I'm home," he peers in, locking eyes with Kyle, and making a suspicious face.
"Kyle, you're going to have to leave," he says, not even bothering to greet him.
Kyle nods and gives me a side smile, "It was nice seeing you, Stan," he waves off, beginning to exit the house through the back door. "Nice seeing you to, Mr. Marsh," he smiles.
My dad pays no attention to him while he says goodbye, and Kyle runs off.
Just the beginning, mainly introducing everyone. Tell me if I should continue. I'd love to write more of this story.
