Friends

Two friends were transported to a war.

"No" a soft voice argued angrily. "I'm not leaving you behind." "But, I'm no use. My arm is bleeding and broken. If we get caught, I won't be able to defend myself." A second voice cryed. "So what. Your my best friend and I'm not leaving you here to die. One day, this war is going to end, and I'm going to bring you back with me to see this very spot." A finger pointed to the writing on the blood-stained sand. "OK. I'll go with you." They ran around the soldiers, dodging the massive rifles and shotguns in their hands. They ran towards the helicopter that would bring injured soldiers back to their homelands. The pair walked up to one that was about to take off. Over the roar of the blades, one of the friends said "Hello? Could you please take us back to our home?" The helicopter's blades slowly stopped and the pilot could be heard. "I'm sorry, but I'm only only allowed to transport soldiers to-" his voice stopped. One of the friends yelled "Please sir. He needs to go back, and I need to help him. Please." The pilot soon gave in. "Fine, hop aboard." he said in a not-so-pleasant voice. The door opened to the cabin and she helped her best friend up. They sat close together, afraid of what bad luck could happen to them. The ride was bumpy, dodging each bullet that officially went towards the soldiers under them. But, the ride was safe. The man took the two friends back to their homeland, with them not injured anymore than they already were. As it landed, the door opened and a building could be seen right next to them. "Hurry, come on." said one of the friends. He jumped down from the seat and waited for his best friend to do the same. They ran towards the automatic doors, and looked around for a place to sit. They sat and waited for the longest time anyone could. Once no one could hear gun shots, when no one could see blood, when no one could feel hurt, the friends stood. They went back to the spot where his arm got broken and cut. They stood there, side by side, staring down at the writing in the blood-stained sand once again. Both squatted down and said the words aloud together. "This war will eventually end, but us as friends will never fall apart.

Author's Note

This is only a short story. It still needs some tweaking, yes I know.

Reviews

[Sarah A. Nelson]

But, I'm no use. My arm is broken and bleeding.
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I'd switch bleeding and broken around. I'm not sure why, just sounds better to me.

It'd be easier to read if you broke it up into smaller paragraphs. It's also very short for an entire story, and very little happens. It could be really good if you added more.