Closure

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I groggily awoke. It was one of those mornings, well I guess afternoons now. You know, the one's where you feel there is no point into dragging your candied ass up.

The cold seeping into my frail body and chiseling into my bones. The sunlight trying to sneak in from behind my crookedly hung blinds. The comforter was dangled messily off my side of the bed. The other side empty.

Once I was sitting up, I was fine. I tilted my head to the side and looked down my small hallway and into the kitchen. I could see the soft silhouette of my wife, she was bobbing our 8 month old son, Shawn, up and down on her shoulders. She was whispering softly into his ears a song.

Have gun will travel, reads the card of a man A knight without armor in a savage land His fast gun hire, heeds the calling wind A soldier of fortune, is a man called --- Pal-a- din. Paladin, Paladin, where do you roam Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home

She had caught me once trying to teach it to our son. She never discouraged my delusional love for my father, the war hero. I mean, he stormed the beaches of Normandy. I heard Shawn cooing as the gentle words hit his ears. Susie had stopped singing and began humming. She could never remember the rest of the song. I smiled weakly. I had found myself unconsciously muttering the rest of the song to myself.

He travels on to where-ever he must A chess knight of silver is his badge of trust There are campfire legends that the plainsmen sing Of the man with the gun, of the man called --- Pal-a-din.

I had stopped singing and brushed my dirty blonde bangs away from my eyes. I picked my glasses up, thick black frames, the same type I had when I was younger. I glanced over at an old photo sitting on my nightstand. The picture worn and tattered, folded one to many times. But Susie, being the angel she was, had placed it neatly in a silver frame, trying to prevent anymore harm to it. It was the last thing I had to hold onto, proving I was normal once.

The three year old boy sitting on his fathers lap, so proud. So unsuspecting of the torture yet to come from his hero's hand. His messy blonde hair revealing his ears, every time I look at it, a light inside of me goes on, untouched, unscathed from hate, but as soon as that light had came on, it had flickered off.

I picked up the fading dog tags, clasped tightly inside my fist, dangling downward. I gave them the once over. Pushing down the anger slowly creeping up my throat. The humiliation I felt every time I was turned down from the army. I only wanted to help, I wanted to be a hero like my father. To give Shawn something to proud of his father for. Not the freak I had become. I shook my head, trying to remove those thoughts out of my heads.

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I slowly dragged my body to the bathroom, breathing in deeply to collect enough air to satisfy my lungs. I turned on the water, cold, of course. My two hands forming a cup to gather the water. I smiled fondly at my left hand, more like my fingers. I smiled even wider. Then I pulled off my glasses, scooped up the water and splashed it onto my face.

I felt an itch in my throat and turned my head to the side and coughed. My brows furrowed as I looked into my palm. I quickly rubbed the blood off onto my pajama pants. I looked at my sickly chest thin and frail, the nasty scar just below my left shoulder blade, and decided to put a shirt on.

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As I walked out into the kitchen I was greeted by the widening of Shawn's eyes. Susie pulled out a chair for me and handed me Shawn, he smiled and gave out a happy giggle. Susie bent down, still in her night shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. So sweet and so gentle. God how I loved her. Them. They made life worth living.

Susie's eyes lit up. She walked down the short hall and disappeared into our bedroom. Then reemerged with a red and yellow, rather old looking book. I smirked recognizing that book. She opened it from the back and pulled out a photo and held it up to Shawn.

"There's your daddy, doesn't he look handsome?" Her angelic voice made Shawn smile. His chubby pink hands reaching out to the photo. He clasped it in his tiny fists and put his mouth on my high school captured face, one of my better moments, and gave it his attempts of a kiss.

This made me chuckle slightly, then I had to quickly cover my mouth with my arm. Then even quicker, I hid my arm behind my back.

Tears welled up inside of Susie's eyes. I could see the worried expression cross her face. She brushed my bangs behind my left ear, and then kissed it. It sent a tingling sensation down my spine. She scooped Shawn up and turned around facing the hall. She gingerly grabbed my hand and lead me into our bedroom. Shawn keeping his eyes on my smiling excitedly.

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Once in there she tried to fix the blinds to block out the light. She knew I was tired, and I didn't have to get to work until 7. She handed me Shawn and began to fix the bedding. She motioned for me to lay down. I did so and held Shawn protectively in my arms. The soft sheets brining comfort to me. Shawn rolled over on his belly, his now tiring self facing me, as his eyes began to shut, it brought me comfort to know I was going to be in his dreams. Susie gently threw a sheet over us and laid her self beside Shawn.

She reached her arm across Shawn and clasped my hand within hers. Within the darkness, I could hear her sweet voice; "Go to sleep my little Teddy bear, and think of happier times."

I shut my eyes. And began to think. I didn't hate my life. It's not that I didn't love Susie and Shawn. It's just, well, somewhere along the line, I had made a wrong turn. I let go of something I shouldn't have. Now all I had to do was dwell upon that, and hopefully wake up with the answer. As I shut my eyes I let go of everything. My chest heaved up and down, always trying to catch my breath. Just one more day. I always found myself saying. My mantra.