Mom, Dad, Eric:

You're probably wondering why I left. It's not really easy to explain, but I can try. I was tired of being the screw-up. The black sheep of the family. The one no one could depend. The one everyone thought would never amount to anything.

I left to prove you all wrong. I see now, that was impossible.

Jake paused, his pen poised above the paper. His eyes slammed shut against the image of the little girl, whose bloodied body haunted his mind, his forehead rumpled as he tried to block it out. There was almost no escape! Even his own tormented mind wouldn't let the image go! He was going to talk to his commanding officer about it later, to see if there was something he could do about it; or if the image of the girl was permanently etched into his mind.

I screwed up. I don't know how it happened; I didn't mean to shoot her; but she stepped into my path, and I'd already depressed the trigger. It doesn't change anything; my rationalizing. I still killed a little girl. I thought the military would change me, maybe make me see things differently, make me more responsible, someone people could depend on.

Maybe it has. Maybe it hasn't. But I still killed a little girl. And every minute, I see her face, her bloodied body. And I want nothing more than to be safe at home.

I joined to make you proud. And look what I've done.

Jake knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn't lay the blame on himself. But he couldn't help it. He'd killed a child. He couldn't forgive himself for that. But he could remove himself from any situation where it could happen again.

I've decided to ask for a discharge. With any luck, I'll be home soon.

I love you,
Jake.

Reading it over, Jake shook his head, and crumpled the paper up. That wouldn't do. He couldn't tell them what he'd done. Or where he'd been. The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to talk about it. One thing he would do, however, was ask for the discharge. And then, from there, he'd wing it. He wouldn't go home though. He couldn't face his family; not after being gone for 5 years. Little did he know, that in a few weeks, a few months, a turn of events so unexpected would throw them all back together again.

He smoothed the crumpled paper down, and shoved it under his pillow. He prayed he didn't see the little girl in his dreams again tonight.

Mom. Dad. Eric. I love you, Jake. His last thoughts before unconsciousness yanked him into nightmares.

End.