Fate on the Battlefield

           
One, two, three, went the beats as Charlie and his solemn friends marched into battle. He was only fourteen and had run away from his home. As he shut his grit-filled eyes he tried his best to imagine what his family was doing at the moment. Anything to take his racing mind off of the inevitable. His mother, Murial, was most likely making dinner for his younger sister, Angeline, as she bickered and complained about her day.
Charlie's father had dishonorably died in the war, and Charlie felt that it was his duty to clear his name. I'll make you proud this time pops, he encouraged himself.A salty tear slid down his cheek, leaving a trail of clear skin on his now darkened face, as he entered the battlefield. He silently crossed his aching heart to his beloved sister. The last time he had seen her as he was slipping out the window into the harsh night, he was told to cross his heart, hope to die, stick a needle in his eye. And that's exactly what he did.
His feet trembled as he awaited his doom. No, don't think like that, he thought. He needed to stay alive for his sister and mother. He wouldn't go like his dad, he just wouldn't. He would prove them all wrong. He had to prove them all wrong.