I was thinking about writing a small story or something
The day was cold and the gas from the building was filling the air around me. We sat there on the pile of dead roting bodies that had a smell that was so over powering that the doges wouldn't even come near us when we got off n had a chance to rest. I act as if I am fine but everyone know that it is not. Sitting on top of a pile of people that I had to kill to keep from getting killed. This is not life this is war and I don't understand why all this is needed. I tried to start a conversation with the person next to me and all that I got was the fuck you look and he stood up and yelled at mt to start to pull my weight on this job. No one wants to do it but someone has to and I don't understand it all. All I want is to do is go home back to the way things were before all of this happened. But no the Japaness had to attack the Americans and I don't understand why they did it. If only i could understand why we do this, why we have to be put into this why can't we just sit there and live the lives that we had.
"Hey kid do you hav a smoke?" a man said that had a small build with brown hair that blends in with the dirt. Eyes as gray as the clouds before it rains. He is about five three of five five I don't know but anyway. Another teenager that was about twelve maybe thirteen. he looks just like him answers "Hey I have some first what is your name?" My name is Jacob, How about you" .....