(8th April, 1940 Location: Port Authority Bus Terminal)
A military bus was parked at the local bus station, where families surrounded their respective young men of their families. Some were laughing with a bit of melancholy in their eyes, some women of families were shedding tears for their sons or brothers as they were preparing for war.
During this environment, a white young man with delicate features, with a rough age of 17, was slumped on the seat of the bus; from the others' perspective, he most certainly seemed dead. But suddenly his body shuddered and he slowly opened his eyes.
(POV: MC)
I slowly opened my eyes as the rays of sunshine were penetrating my eyelids, as it was a husband who returned from war and met his wife after 6 6-month deployment, now releasing his sexual frustration.
Well, we are getting sidetracked by my crass humor. As I opened my eyes, the scene around me stunned me.
"WTF!!!" I exclaimed out loud. All the people well mostly young men around me stared at me as I was a numbskull. The reason for cursing out loud is that the technology or my surroundings is giving me the vibe of the 1940s.
To confirm it further, a young man who seems to be a recruit sitting in front of me was reading the newspaper, and the date on the newspaper confirmed my suspicions that it was that era which made 'muricka great'
And I knew at this time around an inspiring failed Austrian artist had gone on his so-called crusade to purify the world. As you can see with grace of my shitty luck, I have volunteer to enlist in the war atleast the owner of body did from what I deduced.
Well, you are asking how I know I am in someone else's body, my hand had never been this cissy before, I knew that much.
As I am surveying my body for the name or something, I get this head-splitting headache, like Angron getting butcher's nails in my head.
Soon I clutch my head to mediate the pain, then suddenly I got memories of this body returning to my head. Slowly, I reviewed all of his memory, soon I got his name Randolph Diddler, Hehe just kidding!
Jokes aside, his real name is Jonathan James. He is your average New York kid, with family lore similar to mine but with certain saddening twists.
Let me give you a brief lore: Jon's mother, Sandra, got pregnant with him in her teenage years, 17 to be precise. His father was your typical white New York punk. As any responsible punk, he abandoned his mother when she was pregnant.
Furthermore, his mother gave birth to him, and they took care of each other for 6 years. Then she met his current stepfather, Alex, at the cafe where she worked. Alex was also a single dad with a son who was born in the same year as Jon.
In the end, his mother got married to Alex. Sandra, much to the disappointment of almost identical to my mother, got attached to his new family, completely ghosting Jon. She took care of his stepbrother as if he were her own. Then, after a couple of years of marriage, she gave birth to his half-sister Olivia.
After that, Jon, being 8, was on his own except for his clothes (which were his stepbrother's worn clothes)and shelter (basement). He would mow neighbours' lawns and help people wash their cars for some bucks, so he can eat to fill his stomach.
Because Sandra doesn't allow him to eat at the table with the rest of the family, and gives him leftovers after the whole family finishes the meal.
So he lived like this, but the camel's back finally broke at the age of 16, when, during an argument, she said to him, "You are the only stain in my perfect life that doesn't seem to go away."
This broke his heart so much that he decided to move out the house as any normal person would, so he got two options to go: One to be a gangster run the streets (which he knew he wouldn't last in that field), and the second option was: Military as during wartime there are some laws got loose that is at which age people can be enlisted.
So he did what any sensible child, who was forced to grow up despite his youth, did: he selected the military.
You guys are wondering what happened to him. Well, he did tell Sandra that he volunteered to enlist in the military. His heart hoped that at the very least she would see him off to the military for the last time. But as the bitch she was, she didn't show up.
As he was watching other mothers care for their children, crying for their safety, the kid got his heart trampled hard for the mother he cared so much about.
The sadness and grief were so much that it caused his death, and here I am in the body of the child to live the horrors of World War 2.
While I was skimming through his depressing memories, the bus jerked forward, bringing me back to reality.. Then I realised the whole bus was full and now it was moving toward the direction of the training camp, which would prepare us at least to survive the horror of war.
'So much for me to live a happy life, fuck youuu old man!!!' as I cursed the old man for lying to me about living a happy life as he promised me to.
(Word Count=898)
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