Like it says, this story was inspired by a couple lines from Good Charlotte's The River. It's a spectacular song, and I love the music video!
Anyway, I used Roy to play out this scene because, honestly, I just couldn't get it to fit right with anyone else. Plus, I've always been intrigued by how different he looked when he was younger, like in the flashbacks told by Marcoh, and how I can never figure out exactly how it is he looks different.
If you've read my story 'To Raise a Child', forget everything you know from it. In this story, Roy's mother is someone totally different, not to mention still alive, and he has an older sister who's not really important and is only there cause she's convienent at the end.
No spoilers, and I think I actually managed not to swear at all in this one, which is a first for me. So, yeah, enjoy. Oh, and those lines in the begining are the lyrics from The River that I was talking about.
To the praying mother, the worried father, let your children go.
If they come back they'll come home stronger, and if they don't you'll know.
Alison cast another furtive glance at the person sitting across the crowded table. Seeming to sense her stare, the young man looked up suddenly and smiled.
"Something wrong, mother?"
Alison shook her head, hastily returning her attention to the plate of half-eaten food before her, "No Roy, nothing at all."
Her son gave her a searching look before seeming to accept her answer and returning to his conversation with his father. But Alison's dark eyes lingered on her son's turned head a moment longer, disturbing thoughts swirling through her head.
It had been three months since Roy had gone off to war, and the dinner she'd made tonight was in celebration of his first day being home. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, and indeed Roy joked and laughed and seemed to be generally enjoying himself. But still, her mother's instincts told her that something wasn't right. A shadow seemed to hang over the young man, subdueing his laughter and sobering his expression whenever it threatened to become too bright.
It was subtle, but there was no doubt in Alison's mind that her son had lost something in the three months he'd been gone, something important. She never would have labeled Roy as an innocent- that smile of his was breaking girl's hearts by the time he started school as a boy- but never had his eyes looked so hard, like two chips of onyx. And there was something else, something she couldn't put into words.
Laughter broke her reverie, and she looked up to see Roy chuckling at something his older sister had said. His gaze suddenly turned to her and she couldn't help but return his smile, even if her heart wasn't in it.
What did she have to complain about? She was one of the lucky ones, after all. At least her son had come home.
