• It was a quiet afternoon, like most. The sky was a mixture of crimson and lilac, which surrounded the golden semicircle that peaked up from behind the horizon. It was cool inside the house, but once you stepped outside, the rising sun warmed you better than a blanket on a cold night.
    Jane Walburg had graduated from her high school three weeks earlier. To some three weeks may seem like a long time, but to Jane and her parents it had passed in the blink of an eye. Jane was a month and a half shy of her nineteenth birthday. But she wouldn’t celebrate it with her parents. And she would miss both of their birthdays…she wasn’t sure how many, but she knew at least two.
    She was lying on the couch with them both, one parent at each end. Her feet were in her father’s lap and her head in her mothers. Her mother was running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, tears escaping her eyes despite her efforts.
    Home videos played on the television. They laughed at the fond happy memories…at the past. But cried at what they knew was to come. They rewound over and over the funny clips, hoping to, in their minds, relive the memories. They were laughing so hard they almost forgot the troubles of the coming day. Jane sat up; wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, but went cold when she saw the luggage next to the door.
    Her mother’s laughter died down as she saw what Jane was looking at, and the sorrows to come flooded back in. Jane hugged her mother as they both began to sob. Her father scooted closer and hugged his daughter and wife as the knock on the door made them all jump. After many quiet moments her father spoke up.
    “I’ll get it,” he said, standing and walking slowly to the door. Jane sat back, squeezing her mother’s hands tightly. They were both thinking the same thing: ‘Please don’t let it be them, please don’t let it be them.’ But who was there to listen?
    The Army Official stood at the door, dressed in a sharp green uniform, with the police officer who stood behind him dressed just as sharply. Jane and her mother both let out weeping gasps when they saw who stood at the door. Without missing a beat, the Official began to speak.
    “Miss Jane Walburg is hereby summoned to perform her two years of mandatory military service in the U.S. Army. As is the custom with all U.S. citizens, if Miss Walburg does not comply she will be imprisoned till she complies with this law.’
    “Please,” my mother said stepping toward them, pushing Jane behind herself, “don’t do this. Don’t take away our only beautiful child.”
    “I’m sorry Ma’am,” the Official said stepping into the house, “but if she won’t come, we will have to use excessive force. Unless of course she tells us now that she will not comply, we can take her to central booking and then straight to Riker’s Island. Now come with us Miss,” he said stepping forward and taking Jane by the arm.
    “No!” her mother screamed rushing at them, but was stopped short by her husband, catching her in his arms. He hugged her close.
    “Shh, shhh, Alice,” he said, tears pouring from his eyes, his voice breaking, “There’s nothing we can do.”
    “I love you Mom…I love you Dad.” Jane whimpered as she was pulled out the door and to the waiting bus. She glanced through the front window at them for the last time.
    Peter and Alice Walburg would never see their daughter alive again.
    Five months after her deployment, her caravan was attacked. Her funeral was held in their home town. Her parents joined a radical movement, petitioning and protesting to remove the Two-Years-Of-Service Act from the legal system. Both were shot and killed two years later after a riot broke out during a protest. They are buried next to their daughter. crying