What right do those filthy soldiers have? What right do they have to kidnap us and put us in this prison? To hurt my family like they did today. They came into our village just this morning and I remembered the noise as they unloaded desks and chairs to recruit us. I'm just glad that they didn't touch my sister after what has happened to her, and I thank God that I at least have Lolo and Ignacio with me.
When the loyalists or revolutionaries "arrest" people they never have good reasons, and yet the people they arrest are never seen again. I can't see a good side in this war.
I've met some other boys here. One of them is named Esteban, and I feel bad for him because his father was recruited into the loyalist army fighting against us. Another boy named Juan left school so he could join the revolution. I don't think I would ever do that. Ignacio told us all today that our country has had 42 revolutions before this one. Now we're fighting the 43rd.
All through the day we've been learning how to fight, and I hate to think that I might actually be in a battle. One soldier almost killed me today because I bumped him in a drill by accident. I remember the hatred in his glaring yellow eyes as he prepared to finish me. I received my gun and it felt heavy and strange in my hands, and I've already had a taste of war. Earlier today, loyalist helicopters shot our camp earlier, and we scurried to rocks or walls driven by a rush of adrenaline. I remember how the machine gun's psh-psh-psh lasted for a few minutes and suddenly stopped along with the fast paced beating sound of the helicopters. Five men have died since I've been here. My first day in this place. I've sworn to myself that I won't be one of them. I'll go along with drills with sweat stinging my eyes, but I will never be a soldier. I need to get out of here. I need to escape.
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