Unnamed WIP 1

         I never expected my life to change this quickly. Just a few days ago, I was fresh out of high school and filling out an application for Vernita University, as I was ordered to by my parents. I had finished it up and headed to the front door to mail it. I passed by a mirror on the way, and couldn't help but get a good look at myself. Not that I wanted to.
         I remember clearly that I had been wearing my usual attire of a polo shirt and jeans with working boots. My figure was tall and slim, underweight despite my attempts to eat more. My face was rather ugly in my opinions, although others say it's not so bad. It was rough with a hint of acne that refused to go away, and a little too wide. I hated that face.
         I turned away from the mirror and continued on my path and out the front door, only to find someone waiting for me outside. He was a middle-aged man dressed in military garb. There was a large bus behind him.
         Now, I am shaken out of my thoughts by turbulence as the transport I am in enters the atmosphere of a planet far away from home. I look at the other conscripts sitting in the ship. It is easy to see that everyone it afraid, or nervous at the very least. It makes sense. They had given us a uniform and a gun, and are now sending us into an active warzone without an ounce of any form of training.
         There is a loud THUNK as the ship lands. We all rise and get into a line to run out. I find myself at the back of the procession, closer to the front of the transport. The back of it opens and a ramp is lowered, revealing the carnage without.
         It is a terrible sight. Countless bodies are strewn about, watering the soil with their blood. There are bits and pieces here and there of those unfortunate enough to have been caught by an explosive. The still-living had begun piling the corpses in an effort to protect themselves from the gunfire of the enemy.
         The people in front of me begin running outside after a moment of hesitation. I follow behind them. A quick glance at the opposing forces allows me to see that they have taken heavy losses as well, but more of them are alive than dead.
         The man in front of me begins descending the ramp that connects the ship to the ground. Something whizzes by my ear and collides with the internal wall of the transport. The person ahead of me collapses, a hole in his head. I step over him and off the ramp, my boots squelching in the blood-soaked dirt.
         I've already lost sight of my fellow conscripts in the confusing chaos of the battle. I make my way to one of the corpse piles and take cover there, my back to the bodies. There's another soldier here, but he pays me no mind and so I do the same. The transport that brought me into this hell closes itself and flies off. I am stuck here now, doomed to die.
         I look to my right. There is another corpse pile about 30 feet away. The soldier taking cover there sees me and waves. I wave back. Just then, a small round object lands in front of him. He spots it, then slumps against his pile with a dejected look on his face. Right before he disappears in a ball of fire and death.
         Why? I think, why is this happening? What have we done to deserve this? What have I done to deserve this? How can they be so cruel? Are we some diversion, destined for death, or do they expect us to actually win here?
         I feel a compulsion to look to my left. I do so. In the distance, about a half-mile away, is a tree-line. Salvation. I almost get up, but then I see that there's no cover for most of the stretch. The battlefront ends a quarter of the way. I look back to the remains of the soldier that I witness being blown up. That will be me, if I do nothing. The thought alone makes up my mind. I rise from the cover that I shared with the focused soldier, and I run.