The Boy From the Battle COMPLETED

Chapter 3

As night fell, we were about halfway back to camp when Andrew rode up on a horse. "Put Joseph on her," Andrew said with pride as he slid off of the steed. I then carefully placed Joseph on the horse so he wouldn't hurt his leg. "Good work Andrew," Robert commented.

"What's going to happen to me when we get to camp?" Joseph asked worriedly.

"Probably take you prisoner and question you. Maybe even torture you if you don't cooperate," Andrew answered truthfully.

"Or we could get a uniform off of one of the corpses and pretend he's one of us." I offered.

"Good idea," Robert replied.

"I'll go get a uniform," I said as I wandered off. As I searched I thought of my brother Peter. Maybe he's alive and we can mess around and annoy Ma at family gatherings like we used to. He can go back to his family and I could then know what it's like to be an uncle. He could then give me advice on how to get a girl like his. He could make our family whole again. As I walked I continued to think about him and then I found a corpse that had a uniform that looked like it would fit Joseph. I flipped over the corpse to get it off and gasped. Realization hits me as hard as a bullet. It's my brother. He's dead. I also feel like one of those hollow corpses, cold and lifeless. No. No! Why?! Why him and not me?! He has a family! I don't! God why?! I fall to the ground on my knees and cry out in pain. "WHY?!" I screech. Fury rolls through my veins. The Confederates did this. I must kill all Confederates. The South deserves to know my pain and sadness. As I let the fury consume me I walk away from the corpse and back to my colleagues.

"Hey did you find a uniform?" Andrew asked looking at my hands.

"No," I grumbled.

"The plan won't work then," Robert replied.

"I don't plan it to," I betrayed. Joseph looked at me with questioning eyes. As I approach Joseph I growled "I. Hate. Confederate. Soldiers! They all deserve to die!!" I grab my knife and raise my hand to stab his heart.

"What are you doing Thomas?!" Andrew yelled. Just as Robert reached for the knife from my hand I brought it down with all my strength. My hand didn't go anywhere. Robert caught my hand.

"Don't blame the boy for something he didn't do. It's not his fault. It's some other Confederate soldier. I saw it happen and I killed the man that killed your brother," Robert urged. "Oh. Ok. I'm sorry," I breathed. "Lets just get to camp," Andrew ordered. "Ok," Robert and I agreed. I start to laugh. It then becomes a hysterical laugh and the three just turn to me. Fear stains all of their faces.

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Tell me what you think. It's getting pretty intense right? Well feel free to notify me of mistakes I made like misspelling a word. Thanks for reading!