The sound of our laughter filled the empty room as we sat beside each other, on a bed that did not belong to either of us. We were just sitting there, talking for the past half hour. He’s fun to speak with and easy to talk to. Every moment with him is better than the last. My heart feels nice…free. I’ve never really had a friend that was good to me, nor a romantic relationship with anyone. Whether he is one or the latter, that is to be determined, but at least I’m happy. I just watched him as he spoke. He is so passionate about the world. His eyes sparkle, his posture straightens a little and he looks ahead as if he was talking to a class of students or something. But every once in a while, he’ll look back at me and my heart will stop. Of course, the wholesome feeling disappears when he moves his eyes back to the imaginary classroom. After another while, we just stopped talking and sat in comfortable silence. Art moved his hand close to mine to make it look natural, but I knew it was on purpose. Eventually, our fingers intertwined, and he smiled, pink-cheeked.
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- - You know, we-
- - What are you two doing in here?
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We turned toward a pale-skinned, black-haired nurse. She had a patch of freckles on each defined cheekbone and her bouncy curls lead down past her shoulders. She wore a nurse’s outfit, meaning; a white under knee-length dress, tightly tied with a belt at the waist, and a small hat with a red cross on it. She had her hands on her hips and her eyebrows furrowed. Art looked confused as to why she seemed appalled by our presence here.
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- - Pardon? He said.
- - There is a meeting happening in the eating area…you are missing it!
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I looked at Art with the most panicked eyes. What if the general’s upset? What if he makes us shovel dung for the next nine weeks? Art rolled his eyes as if I was overreacting and placed his hand on my shoulder.
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- -Calm down, James… meetings are made to be missed. He said.
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The nurse chuckled.
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- - If you hurry, I could probably make up a valid reason as to why you are late. She winked.
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I exhaled.
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- - Maybe James skinned his knee while running to the meeting because he wanted to get there so fast, and in the process of falling, he punched me in the face, giving me an infected black eye that would kill me in 26 hours.
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The nurse laughed. She put out her hand.
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- - Rose-Mary. She said.
- - Art Johnson. Said Art, shaking it.
- - James Baxter. I said, shaking her hand after Art did.
- - Come on now, hurry. She said.
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Me and Art followed Rose-Mary through the halls to get to the main eating area. At least we had a semi-valid reason for being late. There are some nurses on the boats, just in case, and they sometimes walk around to see if anyone has fainted or been injured in a way that they can’t move. No one really meets the nurses. They’re jobs are considered “unimportant” compared to soldiers, because they stay on the boat and don’t fight actual battles, but I personally believe that they do an equally hard job. After all, who knows how many wounded men nurses have to treat a day. We finally arrived and the meeting was over. Luckily, everyone was just sitting and eating, not caring that we were absent. Art sighed with relief.
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- - Looks like everything’s fine. He said, shrugging.
- - What?! We could have missed something super important! Everything in the opposite of fine! I whisper-yelled.
- - I’m sure it wasn’t that important…If it was, everyone would be crying, right now.
- - According to what I overheard the general say, earlier, the meeting was just about food and stuff. Said Rose-Mary.
- - Oh, thanks. James likes to panic; It makes him feel safe.
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I playfully pushed Art by the shoulder.
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- - Shut-up.
- - So are we supposed to sit somewhere? Asked Art, changing the topic of conversation.
- - Yes. Division by division…
- - Where’s division six? I asked.
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She pointed toward a table at the back where I noticed Marty being loud as hell beside Jo and Simon. I noticed that man that entered earlier…what was his name? George. His name was George. Me and Art walked over to the table and sat down. Marty lifted his eyebrow.
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- - Where you guys been? He asked.
- - None of your concern. Said Art.
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I bit my lip and squinted.
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- - We didn’t know there was a meeting.
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Marty rolled his eyes.
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- - The general said it at the end of his speech about the training.
- - I, uh…I wasn’t really paying attention. I mumbled just lowly enough for someone a few centimetres away to hear.
- - Oh God… You missed everything! Now, you’ll never know what we eat. Said Marty, crossing his arms.
- - Mostly slop and beans. Whispered Jo, leaning in.
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Me and Art laughed a bit and Marty just glared at his friend.
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- - And I thought you were on my side! He said, fake betrayed, placing a hand on his upper chest.
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The two chattered. I noticed that Simon was being very quiet. I mean, he was always quiet; that’s who he is. But this felt different… He felt scared. Not even he knew what was about to happen. He liked having control. Mostly control over himself. Others too, but that was too much of a hassle. He liked knowing what he felt, what came next, and what to feel. The emotions that he was unfamiliar with scared him. Or…maybe that was just me. But I already knew I was scared. Art placed his hand on mine, underneath the table.
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- - Are you okay, love? He whispered so only I would hear.
- - Y-yeah…
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The nickname and his presence made my heart feel light as a feather, but everything around me made it heavy as a boulder. Funny, isn’t it? Everyone around you gets to live a full and happy life, while you only get to live a quarter of it. I was surprised at the sudden jealousy that rose in me. Jealousy or anger? Either way, I was allowed to be, right? After all, some people were in their homes, eating with their families, while I was here. I don’t know how to elaborate. Just, here. I guess that’s the good part of this stupid war; I get to be jealous and angry at random people who don’t deserve it. The goddamn finger-less cowards who laugh upon our “foolishness”, while they are the ones who are fools. Sadly, all this anger will just make me die with a dirtier conscience. Suddenly, a man walks in with a giant barrel-looking thing, and a couple hundred bowls. He takes out a ladle and begins pouring some sort of… liquid into them. I don’t want to be rude and offend the chef, but it looked like some sort of… wet feces. Without going into further detail, let’s just say it did not looks edible in the slightest. The general came and called everyone, division by division, to get their bowls. Some arguments broke out like “hey, I was here first” or “he has more than me”, but I didn’t understand the rush and protectiveness for this… thing. I definitely wouldn’t complain if I had a smaller bowl than average. Division six was called, and we made our way to the front of the eating area. We got our bowls, and I almost threw up at the sight of the food that was now closer to me. It was something, that’s for sure… at least, I hope it was something. Maybe it was some sort of alien dish that was transported from another planet – no, another galaxy. No one in this galaxy would make such a horrid thing. We each picked up spoons and went back to or long table. I placed the bowl down rather violently, by accident, and the soup didn’t even move! Not only did it look awful, but it was also hard as a rock! I sighed and pushed the bowl away. Art eyed me.
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- - You’re not eating? He asked.
- - Not that. I said.
- - Well, you gotta eat something.
- - I’m sorry, Art. I just cannot eat that.
- - Okay, well, when was the last time you ate?
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I thought back. The last time I ate was…
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- - About a week ago.
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He dropped his spoon with a clang and stared at me with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. I was a little confused.
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- - James! That was forever ago! Why don’t you eat?!
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He continued to ramble on about the importance of food, eating and health. I wanted to listen, but it was just nonsense to me. I was too busy being happy about the fact that he cared so much. Art was probably the only one that could make me eat… this. Not because he was persuasive, but because I trusted him so much, I would follow him to the ends of the earth. Maybe it was trust…maybe it was love. Either way, I would follow him anywhere, anytime, if he asked with a smile. He suddenly furrowed his eyebrows and began snapping his fingers in my face, taking me out of my thoughts.
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- - Are you even listening?! He asked, the sounds of chatter drowning out our conversation from ears around.
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I blinked a bunch of times before fully returning onto earth and concentrating on the real world.
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- - Huh?
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He sighed and rolled his eyes.
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- - I’m not leaving here until you eat your soup.
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I laughed a little.
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- - Okay, then… But if I die, I’ll blame it on you. I joked.
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He just sat there with his arms crossed and squinted. He had the faintest smile at my joke, but he kept a serious look on his face. He nodded toward the soup – if you can even call it that – as if he signed me to eat it. I nodded and took the spoon in my hands, delicately placing it down on the brick-hard soup. I gagged as I took a spoonful of something that had the consistency of liquid sawdust. I played around with it for a while before inhaling, taking a deep breath and placing the utensil in my mouth. It hit me immediately that the past ten minutes were the most anti-climactic moments of my life, because it didn’t taste bad; it tasted like absolutely nothing. Well, at least it didn’t taste bad… I took a second bite, since Art was still staring at me, waiting for me to eat until the bowl was clean. I never really thought about my not eating enough. I never really cared; I wasn’t ever hungry. I just assumed that it didn’t matter if I didn’t eat if I wasn’t hungry. Apparently it did, because Art was staring intensely at me through squinted eyes. I kept taking bites. The more I ate, the more I realized how hungry I actually was. The bites turned into hungry attacks, as I violently swallowed that tasteless barely-even-food. It soon turned into a bad taste and a worse texture, the further I got into the bowl, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was so hungry I started to crave it, every second it wasn’t in my mouth. Is it possible to crave something you hate? I didn’t care. I kept eating until the bowl was completely empty. I took the bowl away from the table and ran my fingers along the insides, trying to get it onto my fingers so I could lick it off. I placed a finger in my mouth getting in any last drop of that terrible substance. When I opened my eyes, I looked at Art who was staring at me as if I was a mad man. While looking at him as if I was just caught committing a crime, I took my finger out of my mouth slowly and set the bowl back onto the table.
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- - Gross. He said.
- - What?
- - Is that how you eat all the time? He said, a faint smile playing on his lips.
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I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
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- - Give me a break, your majesty, I haven’t eaten in a week.
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He nodded.
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- - Denied. Put it back. He said, lifting his chin up as if he were the king of England.
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I laughed.
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- - My food?
- - Yes. He said, trying to keep his serious, royalty look on his face, but breaking and just laughing, along with me.
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We just sat there laughing. I forgot how much I liked his laugh. It seems that every time he laughs, I like it more. In such a dark place, we laugh. My heart felt free. It felt like everything I was dreading, out here, was going to work out. Like if I was going to be okay. He made me feel like I was going to be okay. I tried to internally make fun of myself (“two boys can never feel like such for each other”), because I always felt that if something was good in my life, I wasn’t suffering enough. Other people were dying, and I was over here, enjoying myself. But this time, it didn’t work. I was happy. No amount of “you’re going to die anyways” or “he doesn’t even love you, you idiot” was going to take away the happiness that I was feeling when I was around him. He inhaled and placed his own spoon in his soup.
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- - Yeah, I’m not eating this. He said.
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- I put a fake scandalised look on my face.
- - How dare you? After all I went through, you’re not even going to yourself?!
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I took the spoon and placed it against my chest as if I were stabbing myself in the heart.
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- - You’ve broken my heart. I said.
- - That was the plan. He said, followed by a wink.
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My cheeks turned red. To anyone around, this whole interaction would have been strange; two grown men acting like children. But it just felt natural, as if I was allowed to be myself when I was around him. Like I was safe. He wasn’t judgemental, and I wasn’t afraid to be around him. Most people made me feel anxious. It felt like they were judging my every move; my height, my weight, my level of attractiveness, my intelligence, my strength and even my level of kindness. I’ve just always felt like everyone was judging me all the time. I had to be perfect. And if I wasn’t, I wasn’t a man. God, I hated that. My father would say those types of things all of the time; you’re not a man because you’re not strong enough, not tall enough, not skinny enough, not enough. I was always not enough. Art makes me feel like a man. Art makes me feel like I was finally enough. Suddenly, the general came out and stood in front of us. He yelled something very loudly, but I couldn’t make out what he said. It got everyone’s attention, though, because the entire room was looking at him. He cleared his throat.
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- - Dinner is now over. I hope you enjoyed the food, because that is all you will be eating for 16 days, and if you die on the ship, all you’ll be eating for the rest of your life.
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A couple of chuckles were heard in the room. Me and Art looked at each other in the same exact way. A look that read “oh God, please don’t make me eat this ever again”.
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- - Now, please get to sleep, because you will be up at 5 a.m.
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Some groans were heard in the audience. That seemed to anger the general.
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- - Sorry if that’s not to your likings, princesses! I thought I had men up here! He yelled.
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Everyone stayed quiet. This is going to be a long 16 days.
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