YOU MUST READ THIS! Hey Guys! So I've decided to put "SonAmy: Fear of Water" on hold for a bit because I've hit a writers block. After I have finished "The Fear of Water" I'm planning to write several books/fanfics based on the TV show "Miraculous Ladybug: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir" I absolutely LOVE that show and now that Season Two is coming out in drips and drabs I barely have time to upload since school is also piling on the homework and unit tests. But I promise that at least one or two chapters of "Fear of Water" will be up during the Christmas holidays! I have decided to write this book about pieces of creative writing that I have written myself. I hope you enjoy!
This is set five years after the best-seller "Private Peaceful - By Michael Morpurgo" finished. If you have not read this book, you can decide to read at your risk as there ARE spoilers about what happens. You have been warned. On to the chapter...
One minute to six
I lead Tommo by the hand towards the garden of names. He has to know the truth. For Little Tommo's sake, we all had to pretend that I was his father. We all tried not to cry, Molly, Mother, Big Joe and me. We all tried to forget. But we could not, as home was not the same without Charlie, just as it was when Father died. Our side won, but it permanently feels like I lost everything. Instead of winning everything. Big Joe was distraught when I arrived home in Blighty without Charlie. I had to tell them all the truth because Big Joe could sense my anxiety. We had cried for days, walking around like soulless life forms. Charlie's death created a giant cloud over Molly. Most days, I felt like they didn't want me around, because I looked like both Charlie and Father. But the nagging part of me thought they were cherishing every second they could spend with me. Every single piece of me, as if I was going to be snatched from them any second.
The garden of names, the churchyard. We buried Charlie next to Father. There was no funeral, nobody mentioned him. When they did, they air became empty and emotionless. The Colonel had said that it served him right. We ended up ignoring the Wolfwoman and the 'silly old fart', as all they would do was insult Charlie and Father. They not once stopped disrespecting either of them. And now Charlie's dead. I don't have the heart to insult them back.
"Why are we here daddy? Have we come to see Grandpa?"
Like Big Joe, Little Tommo could sense when we were upset. A single tear slid down my face as I ruffle Little Tommo's hair. I'm not going to tell him. Yet. He has to know. He thinks that Charlie is his really brave uncle that died in the war. When he says that, Molly runs out of the room to calm herself down before she bursts into tears. I've never seen her so upset. I guess she really loved Charlie.
We kneel in front of the two graves, my memories beginning to play like a broken record. Fuzzy and incomprehensible at first, then smooth and clear. He doesn't know. He will have to find out someday. But for now, Little Tommo deserves to enjoy his childhood. Like Charlie and Father did. Like I did.