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He sat on the table and ordered a whiskey. The village didn’t have many people – most of them left for the war and never returned. The ones that remained were drinking away their life in an attempt to forget and be forgotten.
When young men went off they had dreams of becoming a hero set deeply into their minds. They dreamed of marching back into a country that loved them or dying for a cause they believed in. He also believed that. Back then. But after he had returned, he believed in nothing at all – he knew better than that. He had learned that belief was trust and trust was weakness. More than one scar could be shown as evidence of this past weakness of his. “Would you like another drink Tyler?” The bartender interrupted his thoughts. Tyler realized he had nearly finished his whiskey, but instead of answering, he just gulped the rest of his glass, dropped a couple of coins on the bar and gestured to the bartender indicating that he’s leaving. As he started turning around and standing up, a sharp pain ran through him, and he fell back on his chair – a reminder that his last wound had not yet fully healed. Cursing, he attempted to stand up again, more slowly this time. The pain was not only a reminder of his wound but also of the fact that the government had done nothing to ease the pain of the surviving “heroes”. Hardly any hospitals worked, and the ones that did only provided services for people who could pay.
If that last bullet had hit him 5 centimeters to the right, right now Tyler would be with the other half of the soldiers – returning prone in one of the mass-manufactured coffins. He wished that it did. Every night since the war was over he prayed, hoping for something to end his life. Though until this day his prayers had not been answered.
The war was over, but he had nothing to return to. He didn’t know anyone anymore. He didn’t know where his family was – when he had come back he had found the house burnt down. He suspected they were dead, though at this point in time he no longer cared.
As he approached the door it opened, banging loudly against the wall interrupting his thoughts for a second time. He half-closed his eyes and put his hand in front of them as the incoming light blinded him. He could see three silhouettes. As his eyes got slowly accustomed to the light he could recognize the crest on the men’s uniforms. They were soldiers like him, though they were rather large and bulky – a sure sign that they had not been in the army for some time. It was only then that he saw that they dragged a young woman of no more than 14 years of age. She was a sorry sight. She had long brown, though now very dirty, hair, her cloths were in tatters, barely covering her womanly features and her face was dry and sullen appearing almost lifeless. As she looked pleadingly to Tyler (who happened to be standing closest to her) one of the soldiers kicked her mercilessly and laughed.
There was a time when something like this would fill Tyler’s body with rage. A time when his pride wouldn’t let him walk away. But these times were gone. He walked past the soldiers without even looking at them.
As he walked out he fought to suppress a feeling inside him that wanted him to run away and never wonder why. He realized that his emotions were like a picture. Once crumpled up it can’t be perfect again. It seemed that a part of him had died after all. Only it was not his body that was dead.

Originally posted by Vicsun
Tyler

Originally posted by Kameleon
[BDo you want The Amazing Spellchecker™ to tell you his thoughts? There are two points that a normal spellchecker wouldn't pick up... [/b]

As she looked pleadingly to Tyler (who happened to be standing closest to her) one of the soldiers kicked her mercilessly and laughed.

The war was over, but he had nothing to return to. He didn’t know anyone anymore. He didn’t know where his family was – when he had come back he had found the house burnt down. He suspected they were dead, though at this point in time he no longer cared.

Originally posted by Vicsun
Yes please. I only read it through once after I finished it, due to a lack of time.

And I've never seen Full Metal Jacket. Is it a good movie?

Originally posted by Kameleon
Glad to help I love proofreading...seems a bit sad but I do

Originally posted by Aegis
Yeah, it's fun to proof someone elses work, cause it's not your mistakes... Proofing your own though... Ugh... thats not fun

Originally posted by Kameleon
I could have a go at Soldier's Pride for you if I have a few spare moments...

Originally posted by Aegis
Oh jeez, the amount of typos and other stuff in there is brutal. In my methods, nothing gets proofed by me until it's finished... If your brave enough, though, go for it.

BTW, I still ain't done proofing Noble Savage...

Originally posted by frogus
Perhaps he meant 'soldiers'', not 'soldier's', i.e the pride of many soldiers, in which case it is acceptable to leave the apostrophe out altogether in the case of a title...

Originally posted by frogus
After a little thinking, I refer you off the top of my head to Finnegans Wake.

Originally posted by frogus
I think that Joyce's proofreader would not argue long with you...

Originally posted by frogus
I think that punctuation can be applied however the titler wants to in a title, because a title is not a normal sentence anyway. One could easily argue for the grammatical incorrectness of any book title if it is vieweds as a standard sentence, but I think it is a different type of construction altogether. Off the top of my head, I refer you to At Swim Two Birds. No comma? Or he could have got cut off in the middle of writing the title and been meaning to write 'At Swim Two Birds I Shot In My Pond Yesterday'...