Letter Twenty Four

July 2011

My nose wrinkles at the acrid smells. It's way too pungent that it's making my head spin. My shoes sound too loud in the long hallways and they look too colorful against the sterile white floors. I try to catch a glimpse into the rooms, even though I know I haven't reached my destination yet, but the rooms are all dark and daunting.

Room 750, 3rd floor.

I clutch the dog-tag that has been hanging around my neck for the past twenty-six hours and keep up the mantra in my head.

Room 800, 3rd floor.

The rest of me is numb.

I start to walk slower as the bold numbers next to each room starts to get closer and closer to 800.

755

756

757

758

759

.

.

.

I don't realize that I've stopped breathing until a nurse walks by and asks if I'm okay. Nodding and swallowing thickly, I thank her and crack open the door a little.

Room 800

Beep beep.

Room 800

Beep beep

I step slowly into the room, the beeping monitors are loud and obnoxious. The curtain is closed, another barrier I'll have to get through to get to him.

I laugh coldly at my melodramatic behavior.

Room 800

Beep beep

Slowly, I push aside the curtains and I'm met with the most horrific sight of my life.

It's a shell of the man I once knew. The sometimes shy, kind, brave, yet recluse man I loved.

His cheeks were hallow and thin, his face pale and void of any of his dimples. His usually short hair hangs delicately on his forehead in a way that is too perfect compared to the rest of him, his torso sits in a brace of some sort and I wonder if he was shot in that area. The idea of it makes my eyes tear. Like his face, his body shows no signs of life. If I didn't hear the beep of the machines, I would've thought that he was…

Room 800

Beep beep

Room 800

Beeeeep

.

.

.

Beep

.

.

.

.

"Zach?" my eyes widen at the silent monitors.

"Zach!" I choke and grab his hand just as doctors and nurses rush into the room.

They have shock pads.

The nurse give the doctor all clear.

He hovers the pads just above his chest.

.

.

"Zach!" I cry, and suddenly I'm on my back, lying on the floor next to my bed.

Good morning, it's 8:00 AM!

Beep beep

It must have been the fact that my emotions are haywire after reading the letter this morning and having that horrible dream that makes me start sobbing at the fact that my alarm clock was going off and not the monitors beside Zach's hospital bed.

I had passed out while crying.

I wasn't in Virginia.

I wasn't at the hospital.

Zach wasn't dead.

.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

.

Dinner that night is tense, at least for me it is. The topic of Zach hasn't come up in over a year. I guess Joe and I are too much alike. We're too stubborn to have this conversation.

But it needs to happen, now.

"Did you read the letter that you gave me this morning?" I ask Abby.

"What letter?" Joe asks conversationally.

Cara blows spit bubbles.

Abby tenses and looks up at me, "No, but I did see the address."

I nod and place the letter onto the table.

"Who is it from?" Joe asks, the impatience in his voice palpable.

I narrow my eyes at him. The little voice in my head is telling me not to do it, not to provoke him.

But I'm desperately curious to see his reaction.

"Zach," is all I say.

Joe narrows his eyes, "What does he want? Money?"

The anger in me boils over but I keep deathly calm.

"Why would you assume that?"

"Because that's obviously why he came here last year. He tricked you Cammie, all of us. I've heard countless stories about soldiers and PTSD and-"

"He doesn't want money!" I shout and the whole table goes silent.

After a tense silence I say, "He's wounded. I was on his contact list. No, the only one on his contact list."

"He just got back…?"

"No. He was flown into Quantico ICU in February," I say and my voice wavers.

"He was shot during combat, I'm not sure where, but when they tried to treat him he kept going into epileptic shock. They put him in a medically induced coma so all of his wounds could heal."

Joe and Abby frown at me with grim expressions that I can't tell if it's directed at the story or me.

"All of this was said in the letter?"

"No. I called."

"Well, that's too bad, Cammie. Maybe we'll get updates."

My jaw drops at his insensitivity.

"Are you kidding? I'm going to Virginia myself, Dad."

Joe chuckles and Abby scolds him, taking Cara from where she sat, oblivious, and to her play pen in the living room.

"And just how long do you plan on staying there?" he questions.

"As long as it takes! You never accepted him or wanted me to have any relation with him before, but you can't stop me now, Joe."

Joe slams his fist on the table, "Don't talk to me like that, young lady."

"I'm an adult! I'll do whatever I see best and I'll love whomever I want!"

Joe scoffs, "Love, ha! You know nothing about it, yet, you're too naïve. You have basketball practice, preseason, school! What, are you just going to drop out now?"

I take a deep breath and repeat, "Like I said, as long as it takes."

Joe glares at me for what seems like and infinite amount of time before saying. "Fine, you think you're an adult and that you can do whatever? Then leave my house."

"What?" I ask incredulously.

"Get out of my house!" he says boldly, standing up form the table. "No one associated to that conniving convict is not welcome in my house!"

"Convict?" I yell, "Why is he a convict now?"

"He's deceiving you, Cameron! He's probably not even in the Marines. You want him in your life? Well then you don't have me!" he yells from across the room.

"You'd kick out your own daughter?" I yell back.

Joe's eyes darken as he says, "You are no daughter of mine."

Literally gasping from the shock of his horrible words, I run upstairs and slam the door to my room.

My bags are already packed.

I'm off to Virginia to start my new life.

.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

.

A.N.

Hey guys, I know this is short and I just wanted to thank you for your patience! It was my birthday in august, and then we went on vacation, and then I had AP summer homework (finished at the last minute) and babysitting, and then school started :p

So sorry!

So, how'd you guys like this chappie?... it took me forever to write this cause I wasn't sure how it should go. The words ended up writing themselves and surprised me with that interesting conclusion!

More answers in the next chapter that I'll try to update this weekend!

Reviews?

~Akira