**This story is a lot different than you expect, but you'll see that in a little bit. I do own this story, almost every inch of it. I don't exactly own the character Phillip, because he is really my great-uncle, but I just changed a little bit of him. I hope you like it! Please R&R!**

I sat in the warm sun in the summer of England, a rare occasion we have had. I was sitting on the beautiful green grass that sat beside the river, watching my parents, older brother, and little brother setting up the picnic. Jacob, my elder brother, was on leave from the war right now. He was able to convince his Commander to let him visit home for a couple of weeks because he was shot in the shoulder and couldn't exactly use it for about a month. Everyone in his regiment loved Jacob, including his Commander. So, in other words, Jacob was lucky to be able to go home for a short amount of time.

Jacob caught my eye while he stood before my mother and little brother setting down the picnic blanket, arms on his hips, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the beating sun making a few trickles of sweat roll down his neck. His hair was short and buzzed, so he had no worry at all about getting hot on his head. Jacob was extremely tall, around six foot four, really tall for people who knew him. All of my friends would squeal over my twenty year old brother because he was so handsome, compared to most boys at my school.

Jacob trudged toward me, keeping his head down while the sun hit his face. My eyes wandered to the bandage that was wrapped around his shoulder, old blood still clearly visible from his injury. My heart sunk low, knowing how dangerous his life was turning into. He was a Marine that was fighting in the war against Germany. Jacob must have seen things that no one could ever explain.

Jacob plopped onto the ground next me, exhaling in relief. "Ah! It's so nice to be home, Rach. You have no idea."

I smiled, slightly, at him. My name was Rachel Kennedy, but most people called me Rach. It was a normal name for me, so I was often used to hearing that nickname all my life.

"Rachel," I stiffened. Jacob never called me by my full name unless something was wrong. "I'm sorry to hear that Philip is fighting as well."

I sighed. "Thanks, Jake. It's not really a huge deal."

I saw Jacob's eyes turn dark, so I cowered back a little. "Not a huge deal? God Rachel, do you even know what we are experiencing over there? Do you even know!" Jacob's attention flew off to a world that was burying in the back of his mind. "You see things that no person should ever see. You see torture, you see body parts away from its owner, who is moaning on the ground. Your comrades die off one by one, sometimes more than that. Rachel, one of my friends was just official stated as MIA."

I couldn't make eye contact with him. I knew what that meant: Missing In Action. "Which friend, Jake?"

When silence only followed, I turned to Jacob to see a couple of tears fall down his cheeks. I moved closer to him in an instant.

"Not Daniel. Don't tell me Daniel," I pleaded.

Jacob turned to me with no answer, only his eyes explaining everything. I cocked my head in another direction, not wanting for my tears to come exploding.

Daniel Jackson was Jacob's best friend growing up. They were best friends since they were about seven. I could not picture Daniel being gone from Jacob's life, all of our lives. Daniel was considered a brother and a son in this family. Both of them were so close that they both joined the Marines, and they ended up entering into the same regiment in the war. Now, Daniel was missing.

"How long has he been?" I asked, concerned.

"About two months. I have been in denial for weeks. I still can feel him next to me."

I saw Jacob's body have a strange spasm which meant he was holding back his anger, his sadness, his worry. I placed a light hand on his arm, telling him that he was safe here.

"Did you know?" Jacob asked, changing the subject.

I gave him a reply: a puzzling look.

"Philip is in my regiment," Jacob said.

My full attention flashed to him. "Really? Is he okay?"

Jacob chuckled, loudly. "Rach, I have been out for a couple of weeks. I only heard that he was coming in. He came in after I left. All I know is that he is my Second Lieutenant."

I was almost giddy with excitement. A Lieutenant? My Phillip?

"Rachel?" Jacob grabbed my chin and jerked my attention toward him. "Why are you with this guy anyway? Rach, you are seventeen years old. This guy is twenty-three. Don't you find that a little weird? I'm surprised that mom and dad are okay with this…"

"Don't worry, Jacob," I patted his arm. "We are on vacation. Let's enjoy it for now."

Easier said than done.

Later that night, we had an early dinner. Mother came gliding into the kitchen toward me, with a huge grin smacked across her face, so I knew exactly what it was. A letter.

I practically snatched the envelope from mother's hands and ran to sit down, already beginning to read my lovely letter. It was true. It was from my dear Phillip. I hugged the letter tightly, but stopping immediately because I was starting to crinkle it.

In the middle of my reading, the phone rang repeatedly. Mother and Father snapped their heads toward the phone, a habit they had ever since Jacob entered the war. Mother carefully answered it and called for Jacob. I didn't put my letter down, but I wasn't reading it now. For some reason, the moment mother answered the phone, a suspenseful shudder ran down my body.

"Hello?" Jacob asked, taking the phone with a big stupid grin on his face.

I could hear a female voice in the background, and she was crying.

"Sara, Sara, what's wrong?" Jacob muttered.

I saw mother cringe out of the corner of my eyes, but my eyes never left Jacob. I knew this was bad. Sara was Daniel's older sister.

"You got to be shitting me," Jacob mumbled, a sudden rise beginning in his voice.

A few seconds later, I heard the phone click, which meant that Sara hung up. All of us were frozen, waiting for something to happen. And it did.

Jacob screamed in agony, throwing the phone so hard against the wall that it swung off, and when it came back, it broke through the wall. Jacob threw a chair across the room, but he never did aim for anybody. It flew past me, so close that it made my hair fly back like wind. Jacob kept slamming himself against the wall, over and over, but thank god it wasn't his wounded arm. Tears spilled down his face as he slid down the wall a little as he hunched over from pain.

Mother was by his side in a moment, but our little brother, David, was standing next to me. So, from protective reaction, I held him closer to me around the waste.

"Jacob, Jacob, honey, what's wrong?"

Jacob was moaning so badly when he spoke that I was surprised I could understand him. "I am going to kill the damn bastards."

"Jacob!" Mother squealed, glancing over her shoulder at David, whom was only eleven.

"Oh god, Mother," Jacob lowered his voice, deeply. "You don't think he has never heard a man cuss?"

Mother glared at him, but continued soothing him. "What did Sara say, dear?"

"They found Daniel."

Those words would probably haunt Jacob for the rest of his life. I could hear Mother suck in her breath. Jacob wouldn't be moaning and crying if those words meant something good.

"Remember how he was a Jewish kid?" Jacob asked, quickly.

Mother nodded. "Yes, vaguely."

"And you know how Hitler feels about Jewish people?"

Mother's face went white. "Oh god, no."

"Daniel was captured by the Nazis and when they discovered that he was Jewish, they sent him to a concentration camp," Jacob groaned. "Sara called because her parents just received a letter stating that he is dead."

I felt David tense up, and then he darted out of the room. I watched him, wishing I could do the same, but I needed to be here for Jacob. Jacob had always protected us when we were upset, now it was his turn. I stood up and pushed myself forward. I lightly pressed mother so she knew to let me aside, and she obeyed by my humble request.

"Come on Jacob," I said, helping him stand up straight.

I helped Jacob walk down the street, so he could get some fresh air and he could talk to me privately. I knew there were some things that a young man just did not want to tell his mother about.

We sat on the hood of an old Cadillac that was in the fields, broken down and rusty. Jacob and I used to come here a lot to chat amongst ourselves.

"Are you okay?" I asked, calmly.

"No, but I'll get over it."

Maybe, I shouldn't bother him about it tonight, I thought. It may be better if I never ask. It's not like I'll understand where he is coming from.

"Okay, Jake," I said, standing up. "I'll leave you here to think. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Jacob nodded, already deep in thought.

When I arrived home, I decided just to go to sleep, hoping this day would end quickly. It was a long day anyway, so I went to bed really early with my letter from Phillip underneath my pillow.

My dream was horrible. It started the second I closed my eyes.

Phillip was dying.

**What will happen now? Tell me what you think! Thanks**