She Never Forgot

When the giant nixie clock on the aft section of the plane came on, it read: 0720, and the pilot said, "We are beginning our final descent on Washington DC."

Everyone in the patient sector cheered for joy while I was still largely locked in conversation with Brandon. No idea how long I'd been aboard the plane; I knew Brandon and I had been talking for a couple hours at least. I looked out my window and noticed my stomach hurt really badly from the nervousness and I took a glance at my little pocket mirror (given by Nurse Alyssa, not important) to see I looked pretty normal. Alyssa helped me clean up the night before leaving, so I felt clean enough. As normal as the guy in that mirror looked to me, I didn't know how I'd look to my family who hadn't actually seen me in years. I sent them pictures, but the E-5 I occasionally paid to take them in Montréal and LM-5 wasn't really worth it given the graininess of the image.

Time sped faster, the plane soon touched the runway, and I watched the ground roll by fast while a thousand thoughts raced through my mind:

"How will they react? What will they think of me? Will Savannah recognize me? It's been so long, will she even love me anymore? What will mom think? What will I do for a job? What are my skills? How can I even go on? WILL THEY EVEN BE THERE TO PICK ME UP!?"

The plane slowed into a turn, and DC came into view out the tiny window behind me. The beacon came on and the pilot said, "Welcome back to DC gentlemen. Cheer for us as we push on to Anchorage, and welcome home!"

I was so nervous it was unbelievable. As my heart beat faster, part of me wished I was back home- Montreal, LM-5? Fuck those places.

Savaren still laid there in his bed staring up at the top of the cargo hold. We came to a stop, and the big doors in the back opened up letting in the flood of blinding morning light. Next thing I knew, I was being put into my wheelchair and pushed off the ramp of the plane. Orderlies unbuckled everyone and carted us off the plane one by one amidst the shouts and hollars of the other conscious wounded.

I waited for Savaren in my chair, but he was being pulled around on the detachable gurney. Brandon was feeling okay, so he took his own crutches and stood next to me with his stump. A few staff members got ahold of my chair and pushed me to the terminal. I was forced to follow in a large crowd of injured men with Brandon easily shuffling by my side. We were being pushed into a terminal ramp and up the only way into the building from the airfield. We entered the long hallway to the waiting area, slowly but continuously. I was more towards the back, so when I was halfway down the hall, I heard the screams and cheers of a large crowd. The staff member let go of my chair to assist others, and I rolled myself around the last corner before the light blinded me again. The light of cameras.

Hundreds of people filled the waiting area apparently indicating this return of veterans as a really big deal. The cameras flashed all around us as we trickled into the crowds accompanied by the medical staff. There were so many people I could barely move my chair. In the confusion I almost immediately lost track of Brandon, so I inched forward looking all around for him, Savaren, Savannah, Mom, or anyone familiar. People were patting me on the back and wanting pictures with me amidst the continuous flash of cameras from every direction. Hearing the words "Welcome home hero" and "Great work over there son" on a loop made those memories surface more and more, seeing each image in each flash.

All the adoring people prevented my progress forward and I was being bombarded with praise that made me feel even worse. After a flurry of pictures with people who loved me despite knowing nothing about where I was during the war, I noticed above the crowd, there was a banner that read, "Welcome back Heroes of Alaska!"

"Heroes of Alaska"? Memories of the fun I had at LM-5 merged with the horrors of that ambush, and those atrocious visions of Montreal blinded everything else.

Glancing away and then back, I saw the sign read, "Welcome back Psychos of Montréal and Malingerers of LM-5!"

There was nowhere to go and nowhere to be. I wished I had died. Scanning the crowds between the images of my haunted mind, I couldn't find anyone I knew. I felt hopelessly trapped in a solitary confinement cell made of smiles and cheers.

I couldn't move, thinking, "Where are they?" I couldn't find Brandon or Savaren either, and each face in the crowd appeared the exact same contorted by giant grins that further exploded the memories of death that were the only thing I could understand. The storm within me grew and grew, but I couldn't satisfy any of it in any way. Despite the drugs, I wanted to kill myself, everyone cheering for me, and I mentally screamed for some way out of this nightmare.

There was no more moving, no more anything, I was locked in place. A tear started to well in my left eye from the pain of my internal torture among all the praise. I did the only thing I could and put my hands up in front of my face; the humility was unbearable for me even though nobody knew how I truly felt. The few who noticed my agony confused it with joy at the love they hurled at the veterans. Hearing those words a thousand times, "You're alright, soldier. We're proud of you" increased the murderous rage within me until I couldn't do anything but scream into my hands, "GO AWAY!"... Nobody could hear over the cheers, instead offering more praise that pushed me further and further into desolation.

All of the sudden, when I felt the dam of terror about to burst, I saw something. There, through a crack between my fingers and the images showing 9 years of horrific pain… I saw her…

I no longer felt locked and immobile. Time itself froze as I lowered my hands, and she stood there gazing at me.

She stood there so blindingly beautiful I couldn't keep my eyes from her. She was dressed in a black skirt, blue flowered blouse, and looked even more incredible than when I last saw her all those years ago before stepping onto that bus. "I never said goodbye."

Seeing those pictures wasn't nearly the same as looking at the woman in person. She even wore that same yellow ribbon in her flowing brunette hair. Time still frozen, I was no longer obstructed as I inched toward her, and all the while she stared at me in wonder.

It hit me again that I must have looked nothing like the David she remembered, but that thought didn't seem to matter anymore. The closer I got, the more her lips trembled.

I found myself stopping only a few feet from her, fully able to see every detail of her beautiful form. Finally, she couldn't take anymore. She brought her hands to her face pathetically trying to conceal it as tears streamed down her cheeks. I moved not more than one inch closer, and she broke into uncontrollable sobs as she threw her arms around me in the tightest embrace.

She cried into my shoulder and I cried into hers; the dam holding back terror was changed to the one holding back love, and it came tumbling down, shattered, never to be built again. Time was unfrozen and all the cheering, screams, and people around me were no longer any thought in my mind. She hugged me so tightly that I couldn't talk. The pain in my pelvis resumed, but I couldn't hold her any tighter if I was healthy. I didn't care what I was feeling physically, all mental pain was gone when her arms were around me. I kissed her neck, and she kissed my cheek a hundred times through flowing tears as the world continued on in its chaos around us. With every memory of terror a dull thought somewhere not worth considering, I felt her kisses, and felt completely at peace as she said the words, "I never forgot" over and over and over again.

All the pain and torture of the past nine years were over in an instant.