100 Challenges
Prompt 036: Precious Treasure
Title: Tags
Kathleen stared down at the tags that lay in her hand. She ran a finger over the worn metal and flipped them over one by one. Each one represented those who had meant the world to her.
Joshua, whom she hadn't liked at first. At the start he'd seemed like an unnecessary addition. He'd proven to be a good teammate. He'd watched her back in training and more than once had helped save her when things went south. It took time, but she got used to having him around. They became friends and Kathleen had become attached.
Sheila, the girl she'd pushed off the course that first day. They'd gotten off to a rough start, ending up in a fight on the second day. Unlike Joshua, when Sheila had been added to their group, Kathleen had accepted her gladly. Over time Sheila had become more reserved, though Kathleen could remember a time when she had been loud and violent. Kathleen had started to miss that more carefree version of her friend, though the more reserved version was a better soldier.
William, one of her first friends during training. He'd always been special. He'd started out as the guy with the joke or riddle, but he'd hardened over time into a steadfast teammate. Kathleen had liked the way he was when she first met him, but she preferred the colder version. He was a strong determined soldier, and he'd never failed her. He was even willing to go with her more destructive ideas to get missions done. Time had also changed his sense of humor. While it seemed to most that it had simply gone away, Kathleen had noticed it really had just become more dark and rare. She'd heard him make jokes , or what passed for jokes, about soldiers they'd just knocked out. Comments about how he could have killed them before they could finish saying some curse word or do some lewd action. Kathleen supposed that he'd only made these jokes around her. She probably was the only trainee that would find them funny.
Fred, the man who for years she'd loved and hated at the same time. He'd been chosen to be their leader, and she sort of saw why. He could be a good strategist, but he was so reluctant to put injured soldiers in the field and shouldered too much blame when his troops were hurt. She'd tried to push him past those faults, make him the leader she saw he could be, but he just couldn't break those habits. She'd watched as John, Kurt, and Jerome had all passed him. She supposed that all that didn't matter now. Even so, over that time he had found his way into her heart. Despite her trying to push him away, he stuck with her and she'd fallen hard for him. He made her feel warm in the coldest of times and she believed he was the one thing that had kept her human through the Spartan training. He'd loved her for the destructive pushy woman she was, and deep down she knew that it was because of that fact that she had stayed the same since the day she'd joined the Spartan program.
Her father, the man who had done his best to raise her while still being an active duty soldier. She had memories of weekends at festivals, carnivals, and parks. She could remember showing her father tests from school and seeing his satisfied smirk as he would then point out the questions she got wrong. She knew that he was proud, but he wanted her to improve so he was being harsh. She never really let it get to her. She still could remember hearing him argue with her aunt at night. She'd never been able to understand what exactly they were arguing about, but she could swear she'd heard her name said a few times.
Her mother, who she knew so little about. She had stories from her father, and had seen pictures. She had a few memories of the woman, things like her mother smiling at her, taking her to the park to see the newly hatched ducklings in the spring, and watching her mother leave for duty. Kathleen wished she knew her better, had had more time. Since becoming a soldier she felt closer to her mother than ever before.
Kathleen shifted the tags, grabbing the chain and lifting them up. She slid the chain over her head and let the tags hand from her neck. These were her precious treasures, her reminders of the fallen.