WHOEVER WROTE THIS IS FUCKING INTELLIGENTTT

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Sky's P.O.V

I watched as the green LA hills transformed into the dusty, sandy dunes of iraq. I sighed, grabbing my duffel bag and flinging it over my shoulder as I made my way of the plane into the training grounds where there were plenty of both men and women alike training for there moment of glory in this devastating war. Echo's of people belting orders ran around my head as I made my way to the main building to be checked in.

"Hi, my names Skylar Gaskarth?" I said awkwardly to the woman sitting at the desk. She nodded and typed something in to her dusty computer before waving me into a smaller room, the walls lined with books a mahogany desk placed in the middle, a woman with short choppy hair sitting behind it.

"You're Skylar?" She said firmly, her voice strong and unwavering.

"Y-yeah." I stuttered in reply, slightly intimidated by her. She nodded and drummed her finger's on her thigh as she sat thinking deeply before she spoke again.

"If you exit this room and go down the hall, Chris should have your uniform ready by now." She nodded more to herself than me. "After that I want you to get changed and head down to Andy for your hair cut." She said. "Finally, head out the main doors and walk until you see a building labeled 'shooting range' so you can begin your gun safety. Understand?" She said. I just nodded, taking in everything she said.

I did as I was told and headed down the hall to a room filled with uniforms, with a shorter man covered in tattoo's rummaging through uniforms of every size.

"Hello?" I said awkwardly. "I'm here for my uniform." I said. He looked up and shot me a smile.

"Of course. Name please?" Chris said.

"Skylar Gaskarth." I said watching as he nodded and walked over, pulling a uniform from the wall.

"Are you related to Alex Gaskarth?" He asked handing me the uniform. I just nodded and smiled slightly.

"I am indeed." I said. "It was nice meeting you though. I hope we get to talk again." I said before I made my down the hall to get my hair cut. . .what fun.

*THREE MONTH'S LATER*

I had finally finished my three month training, as I gazed out the window as the rickety bus bumped down the roads. I looked around to see people all with solemn looks on there faces- looking out the window like I was. I gulped as the bus sighed to a stop and people began filing off the bus.

Here it was. I was officially in the war.

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