Title Letter
Author Uozumi
Genre Challenge/General
Rating PG-13
Disclaimer I own nothing.
Summary Everyone has someone to write to, someone to help them stay sane. Max in Vietnam.
Challenge From Angela, Space Pirate Ryoko

I'd like to read something about Max.

Letter

So here I am. Out here with no one to write to, all I can do is write to myself. I'm the only person who has no one to write to. Most of the guys have a girl to write to and Griff has his brother.

He showed me his brother's picture again. He writes him such long letters and I'm surprised at the words he puts in them. I know he's careful to keep it so that the boy can understand it, but what five-year-old knows words like "pessimistic?"

Not that I know. I'm not a dad. If I was I wouldn't even be here. Now I understand why a lot of the guys went and got married straight out of college. If you're in school or have a family, you aren't coming here. I had a chance to get married. I got scared.

Griff showed me a letter his brother sent him. The kid knows big words. It made me feel kind of stupid thinking he wouldn't. Not that I know what five-year-olds should know. I'm not a dad.

When it gets quiet and we can see the shells off in the distance, I wonder what it would be like to be a dad. I wonder if the kid would look like me or my wife. Would he be good in school? Would he be in detention a lot? Would he be just like me? I didn't get detentions, but I seem the type. Or that's one of the jokes. We all joke about each other.

Griff's brother drew him a picture. He's going into Little League in the summer. How many boys want to be baseball players? I did, half of us did. Griff said he never wanted to play. Although he writes poetry and talks about being a writer. He thinks I'd make a good journalist. I know I majored in it, but I don't know how I'll be one. I'm here not there, and I certainly am not interviewing anyone here.

Most of us are drugged up. I did some, but I'm not abusing any. It scared the shit out of me. I just drink now. I drink so much, but I don't touch a needle or anything else. Well, I smoke too. I just don't do weed or anything like that. Just nicotine and alcohol. It's enough to keep me sane.

We lost someone today. He took his life. Not the first person either. He disappeared and then they tell us he's dead. He's the second one. People are getting numb. Once you stop caring, you just die. I want to live.

Griff's finished his letter and is writing poetry. He just writes and writes them. He doesn't do any drug, doesn't drink, and doesn't smoke. No one understands him and most think he's gay and probably doesn't know it yet. I don't know. What people do in their own homes is their own business, so I have no opinion on it either way.

I can't believe that I'm writing this to myself. Years from now I'll think about this and wonder why I just didn't take something.

The End