‘Hello, this is Jonald Poppland and I’m here to tell you the status on the war against the residents of Garlarda over the planet Sæmwine. Elves and humans are still fighting together against the Garlardians: the harlings and the danjans are against the Earthlings. There will be more drafting beginning tomorrow morning. Currently, the Earthlings are trying to contact the faerie, but their continent is hard to reach. If they fail to do this, there is a cha—'
Myrtal switched off the radio. His older brother, Zangrel, jumped to his feet. “I wanted to listen to that!”
“Of course you did. All you’ve been talking about for the past few weeks is the war, and the possibility that you might be drafted. Out of all the elves in the world, why on Earth would you be drafted?”
Zangrel rolled his eyes. “Why would you?”
“I’m not the one saying I might be drafted.”
Zangrel adopted a haughty expression. “We need all the soldiers we can get. We need the oil on Sæmwine. I’m old enough, and can wield a gun. I could do it.”
“Well, you’re not going to.” Mrs. Lish came into the room with a basket of laundry. “I don’t care how bad we need that oil; neither of you are going to war.”
“Mom, if I get drafted, there’s nothing you can…” Zangrel started.
“Quiet. I’ll have none of that talk. Clean your room.”
Zangrel slunk out of the room. Myrtal smirked.
“You too, Myrtal.”
The elf scowled and followed Zangrel.
* * * * * * *
The last thing Myrtal had expected after a particularly stressful day of college was coming home to see his mother sitting on the couch sobbing. Mr. Lish sat next to her, his arm around her shaking shoulders. He glanced up when Myrtal came in.
“Sit down,” Mr. Lish said. His voice was sorrowful and solemn.
Warily, Myrtal crossed the room and sat down next to his father. He perched on the edge of the seat, his blue eyes darting nervously over Mr. Lish’s face.
“Myrtal, we got a letter today. A…” Mr. Lish trailed off and closed his eyes. “A drafting letter.”
“Zangrel got drafted?” Myrtal asked, shocked.
“No.” Mr. Lish hesitated again. “You did.”
A horrible electric feeling shot up through Myrtal’s head. He heard a strange, faraway humming sound resonating in his ears. Breathing hard, he shook his head and managed to speak.
“What?”
“You got drafted.” Mr. Lish’s voice was stronger this time, but he looked away quickly, and at the end of his sentence his voice cracked slightly.
“But…” Myrtal’s head was spinning. Why him? Why did they want him? He didn’t give a crap about their goddamn oil! So why were they making him fight for it?
Myrtal jumped to his feet. “No! I don’t believe you!”
Mrs. Lish looked up. Her eyes were swollen and red. “Myrtal, listen to your father, please.”
“No! He’s lying! You’re both liars! I hate you, both of you!” Myrtal turned and raced out of the room, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He slammed the door as hard as he could and leaned against it, breathing hard.
He didn’t cry. He wouldn’t let himself. Elves are proud creatures—just as proud as humans, except the elves aren’t ashamed to admit that they’re proud. Still, his eyes felt wet. He swiped at them angrily and stormed over to his bed.
Myrtal lay down and curled up in a protective position, staring at the wall. His heart beat fast. He wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready.
Not yet. Not ready. Not ready. Not ready…
Myrtal awoke to someone knocking on the door. He pulled himself up and opened it.
Mr. Lish stood in the doorway. He looked weary and sad.
“Can I come in, Myrtal?”
Myrtal nodded soundlessly and moved over to let his father in.
Mr. Lish sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. Slowly, Myrtal went over and sat down.
“Myrtal, I know your first impulse is to get angry,” Mr. Lish started. “Anger isn’t the solution. You need to learn how to control yourself.”
Myrtal stood up. “I’m going to die and you’re talking about anger management? Why? To make sure I’m nice and friendly to the danjans? So I won’t…”
“Myrtal!” Mr. Lish’s voice, usually quiet, startled Myrtal into silence. “Anger won’t help anything at any time. It leads to recklessness. Recklessness will not help you in a war.”
“I’m not reckless.” Myrtal stated it as a fact, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He was reckless—even more so when anger took control of him.
“Myrtal. You know that’s a lie. If you do something reckless during the war, it could mean your life. So no matter what, you simply have to think before you act. You should do that always, not just during a war.”
Myrtal stared at the ground. “I…alright. Alright.” He looked up at his father. “When do I go?”
“I’m driving you to the boot camp tomorrow after lunch. Pack up and say goodbye.” Mr. Lish stood and hurried out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Myrtal heard him let out a choked sob, then footsteps hurrying away.
Myrtal opened the closet and took down a suitcase. He stuffed in as many clothes as he could fit, a penlight, a cell phone, and, lastly, a photo album.
The album actually belonged to Mrs. Lish, but Myrtal and Zangrel had been looking at it a few days ago and had forgotten to put it away. The album was full of pictures of birthdays, a boring family reunion, and countless pictures of one of the kids snuggling with someone-or-other.
Myrtal stuffed the photo album into the suitcase and zipped it tightly.
“Myrtal?” a small voice outside the room called.
Myrtal opened the door and looked down. Staring up at him with wide eyes, her face tilted towards his, stood his sister. Relm.
“Daddy says you’re going away,” Relm said. Her voice was serious, with a tint of sadness.
“Daddy’s right,” Myrtal said. He wasn’t sure how to explain drafting to such a young girl.
“When will you come back?” Relm asked.
“Relm? Look at me.” Myrtal knelt down in front of her. “I might come back in a year, I might come back in four, I might—I might never come back. But you’ll remember me, right?”
Relm mouth pursed and trembled a little. “You might never come back?”
“I probably won’t.” Myrtal had meant to say more, but his voice caught on the word won’t and he had stopped quickly.
“Why? Do you not like us?”
“It’s not that. Relm, I…I might die, okay?”
“No!” Relm threw her tiny arms around him and looked up into his face. “No, no dying! No dying!”
This broke Myrtal down. He had been able to pull himself together until now, but seeing his sister so upset, so afraid, he just couldn’t stand it. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He buried his face in her shirt and sobbed.
Myrtal heard footsteps. He tried to stop the flow of tears, but couldn’t even lift his head from Relm’s shirt. It was a red shirt. Blood red.
Someone touched his shoulder. “Oh, Myrtal, baby, my baby,” he heard his mother’s voice. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried.
Myrtal wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, just holding each other and sobbing, but when the tears were finally dried out, he was completely exhausted, emotionally and physically. All he wanted to do was just lie on the floor and forget everything, just pause life, if only for a day, only for an hour.
But life, unlike a movie, has no pause button. It keeps on going until the end. And like a movie, it does end somewhere.
Lunch was silent the next day, what with Myrtal leaving directly after it. Everybody picked mournfully at the food, seemingly intent on making sure lunch lasted as long as possible. But finally Mr. Lish stood, glancing at the clock.
“We have to go now,” he said.
Myrtal stood slowly. “I need to get the suitcase.”
Mr. Lish nodded. Myrtal wandered into his room, dragging his feet. He picked up the suitcase after checking every pocket to make sure they were all zipped. He started to straighten the bed covers, as well, and then plumped up the pillows.
“Myrtal!” Mr. Lish called.
Myrtal took one more look around his room, then hurried to join his father.
It took a few hours to get to the boot camp. Myrtal stared out of the side window the whole time.
The trees moved by so fast; just a greenish gray-brown blur. Like his life, Myrtal thought. His whole life was just going so fast. It was almost over.
The blur of trees turned into a view overlooking a lake, and Myrtal gazed down at it, forgetting for a moment where he was headed.
But as the car left the lake behind and turned into the boot camp, he remembered all too well.
Myrtal switched off the radio. His older brother, Zangrel, jumped to his feet. “I wanted to listen to that!”
“Of course you did. All you’ve been talking about for the past few weeks is the war, and the possibility that you might be drafted. Out of all the elves in the world, why on Earth would you be drafted?”
Zangrel rolled his eyes. “Why would you?”
“I’m not the one saying I might be drafted.”
Zangrel adopted a haughty expression. “We need all the soldiers we can get. We need the oil on Sæmwine. I’m old enough, and can wield a gun. I could do it.”
“Well, you’re not going to.” Mrs. Lish came into the room with a basket of laundry. “I don’t care how bad we need that oil; neither of you are going to war.”
“Mom, if I get drafted, there’s nothing you can…” Zangrel started.
“Quiet. I’ll have none of that talk. Clean your room.”
Zangrel slunk out of the room. Myrtal smirked.
“You too, Myrtal.”
The elf scowled and followed Zangrel.
* * * * * * *
The last thing Myrtal had expected after a particularly stressful day of college was coming home to see his mother sitting on the couch sobbing. Mr. Lish sat next to her, his arm around her shaking shoulders. He glanced up when Myrtal came in.
“Sit down,” Mr. Lish said. His voice was sorrowful and solemn.
Warily, Myrtal crossed the room and sat down next to his father. He perched on the edge of the seat, his blue eyes darting nervously over Mr. Lish’s face.
“Myrtal, we got a letter today. A…” Mr. Lish trailed off and closed his eyes. “A drafting letter.”
“Zangrel got drafted?” Myrtal asked, shocked.
“No.” Mr. Lish hesitated again. “You did.”
A horrible electric feeling shot up through Myrtal’s head. He heard a strange, faraway humming sound resonating in his ears. Breathing hard, he shook his head and managed to speak.
“What?”
“You got drafted.” Mr. Lish’s voice was stronger this time, but he looked away quickly, and at the end of his sentence his voice cracked slightly.
“But…” Myrtal’s head was spinning. Why him? Why did they want him? He didn’t give a crap about their goddamn oil! So why were they making him fight for it?
Myrtal jumped to his feet. “No! I don’t believe you!”
Mrs. Lish looked up. Her eyes were swollen and red. “Myrtal, listen to your father, please.”
“No! He’s lying! You’re both liars! I hate you, both of you!” Myrtal turned and raced out of the room, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He slammed the door as hard as he could and leaned against it, breathing hard.
He didn’t cry. He wouldn’t let himself. Elves are proud creatures—just as proud as humans, except the elves aren’t ashamed to admit that they’re proud. Still, his eyes felt wet. He swiped at them angrily and stormed over to his bed.
Myrtal lay down and curled up in a protective position, staring at the wall. His heart beat fast. He wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready.
Not yet. Not ready. Not ready. Not ready…
Myrtal awoke to someone knocking on the door. He pulled himself up and opened it.
Mr. Lish stood in the doorway. He looked weary and sad.
“Can I come in, Myrtal?”
Myrtal nodded soundlessly and moved over to let his father in.
Mr. Lish sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. Slowly, Myrtal went over and sat down.
“Myrtal, I know your first impulse is to get angry,” Mr. Lish started. “Anger isn’t the solution. You need to learn how to control yourself.”
Myrtal stood up. “I’m going to die and you’re talking about anger management? Why? To make sure I’m nice and friendly to the danjans? So I won’t…”
“Myrtal!” Mr. Lish’s voice, usually quiet, startled Myrtal into silence. “Anger won’t help anything at any time. It leads to recklessness. Recklessness will not help you in a war.”
“I’m not reckless.” Myrtal stated it as a fact, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He was reckless—even more so when anger took control of him.
“Myrtal. You know that’s a lie. If you do something reckless during the war, it could mean your life. So no matter what, you simply have to think before you act. You should do that always, not just during a war.”
Myrtal stared at the ground. “I…alright. Alright.” He looked up at his father. “When do I go?”
“I’m driving you to the boot camp tomorrow after lunch. Pack up and say goodbye.” Mr. Lish stood and hurried out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Myrtal heard him let out a choked sob, then footsteps hurrying away.
Myrtal opened the closet and took down a suitcase. He stuffed in as many clothes as he could fit, a penlight, a cell phone, and, lastly, a photo album.
The album actually belonged to Mrs. Lish, but Myrtal and Zangrel had been looking at it a few days ago and had forgotten to put it away. The album was full of pictures of birthdays, a boring family reunion, and countless pictures of one of the kids snuggling with someone-or-other.
Myrtal stuffed the photo album into the suitcase and zipped it tightly.
“Myrtal?” a small voice outside the room called.
Myrtal opened the door and looked down. Staring up at him with wide eyes, her face tilted towards his, stood his sister. Relm.
“Daddy says you’re going away,” Relm said. Her voice was serious, with a tint of sadness.
“Daddy’s right,” Myrtal said. He wasn’t sure how to explain drafting to such a young girl.
“When will you come back?” Relm asked.
“Relm? Look at me.” Myrtal knelt down in front of her. “I might come back in a year, I might come back in four, I might—I might never come back. But you’ll remember me, right?”
Relm mouth pursed and trembled a little. “You might never come back?”
“I probably won’t.” Myrtal had meant to say more, but his voice caught on the word won’t and he had stopped quickly.
“Why? Do you not like us?”
“It’s not that. Relm, I…I might die, okay?”
“No!” Relm threw her tiny arms around him and looked up into his face. “No, no dying! No dying!”
This broke Myrtal down. He had been able to pull himself together until now, but seeing his sister so upset, so afraid, he just couldn’t stand it. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He buried his face in her shirt and sobbed.
Myrtal heard footsteps. He tried to stop the flow of tears, but couldn’t even lift his head from Relm’s shirt. It was a red shirt. Blood red.
Someone touched his shoulder. “Oh, Myrtal, baby, my baby,” he heard his mother’s voice. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried.
Myrtal wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, just holding each other and sobbing, but when the tears were finally dried out, he was completely exhausted, emotionally and physically. All he wanted to do was just lie on the floor and forget everything, just pause life, if only for a day, only for an hour.
But life, unlike a movie, has no pause button. It keeps on going until the end. And like a movie, it does end somewhere.
Lunch was silent the next day, what with Myrtal leaving directly after it. Everybody picked mournfully at the food, seemingly intent on making sure lunch lasted as long as possible. But finally Mr. Lish stood, glancing at the clock.
“We have to go now,” he said.
Myrtal stood slowly. “I need to get the suitcase.”
Mr. Lish nodded. Myrtal wandered into his room, dragging his feet. He picked up the suitcase after checking every pocket to make sure they were all zipped. He started to straighten the bed covers, as well, and then plumped up the pillows.
“Myrtal!” Mr. Lish called.
Myrtal took one more look around his room, then hurried to join his father.
It took a few hours to get to the boot camp. Myrtal stared out of the side window the whole time.
The trees moved by so fast; just a greenish gray-brown blur. Like his life, Myrtal thought. His whole life was just going so fast. It was almost over.
The blur of trees turned into a view overlooking a lake, and Myrtal gazed down at it, forgetting for a moment where he was headed.
But as the car left the lake behind and turned into the boot camp, he remembered all too well.
TOP WAYS TO ANNOY YOUR TEACHER
1)cry randomly
2) when the teacher calls on you say whocares
3)when somone else answeres a qustion say i no ino and if the teacher calls on you say how should i no
4)scream out nerd when you walk by somene
5)call smart ppl nerds
6)read magizenes when you are supposed to do work
7)read this list as your history report and say this should be an a ppls
8) play your ipod and say this is my fravorite song
9) always say yea when you get an f in a test
10) say i llove you to your teaachers
11)the end is always the begining of your project
1)cry randomly
2) when the teacher calls on you say whocares
3)when somone else answeres a qustion say i no ino and if the teacher calls on you say how should i no
4)scream out nerd when you walk by somene
5)call smart ppl nerds
6)read magizenes when you are supposed to do work
7)read this list as your history report and say this should be an a ppls
8) play your ipod and say this is my fravorite song
9) always say yea when you get an f in a test
10) say i llove you to your teaachers
11)the end is always the begining of your project