Author's magical beginning note
I don't know how good this chapter will end up being but chances are there will be spelling mistakes and lousy punctuation (none of this is my fault but the cute little cat that is wide awake next to me keeps walking on my computer keyboard, I have written this author's note almost a total of 4 times already).
You can skip this chapter if you wish (but I advise not to) as this part is just about the sergeant called Jace Tyler. This name comes from the people who suggested the sergeant's name. The first name 'Jace' was chosen by Alicori and the last name 'Tyler' was suggested by Jaylene Olebar
This chapter will be in the sergeants point of view.
And that's the end of my magical beginning note, i say magical, it wasn't... was it. And I know all to well that not everyone reads these notes, so thank you if you did.
Sergeant
Life it tough for me, I know it always has been and every day that passes, every hope that flickers never makes my past, present and maybe future easier for me. I'm the sergeant of brecon beacons SAS camp in Wales, my real name is Jace Tyler.
Yes, I had parents and a family and I know some fail to have those things and I can't say I was not greatful to them for some stuff but... when I was 5 I became really curious of things. Back then I had no idea of anything my parents did and they never told me, I had to find out by myself. Around those 5 years of age, I asked tonnes of questions.
*Flashback*
"Daddy, just tell me already. Why don't you just tell me daddy? I'm your son." I whined.
"Brat, shut up." My daddy said and took away my toys, he then came back to loom over me "Naughty stool BRAT!" A tear slipped down my face as I tried to protest and get him to answer me, I felt his big rough hand grab hold of me and swoop me up into a fireman's carry over his shoulder and he dropped, not put me down, dropped me onto the hard wooden stool in the empty spare room and locked the door as he went out. It was a new edition (the lock) after i kept on running back out.
*End flashback*
I had been asking for so long. Back then at school (it was my first year in proper school) every boy in my class was talking about how their Dad worked in a supermarket or even owned one. The girls just talked of dolls so I ignored them. Anyways, I couldn't help but feel down that I had no idea what my parents did for a living, I was incredibly curious. My young self, at the age of 5, did not know when to give up and no matter how many times I was demanded onto the naughty stool in the corner of the living room, shut away by locked doors, got toys taken away and shoved out into the snow one christmas in pyjamas, I was always get more and more curious to what they didn't tell me.
*Flashback*
"DADDY! TELL ME!" I cried, I got no answer and was scared. I shouldn't of shouted. I shouldn't have continued again. Hands grabbed me again but this time I was even more scared when he didn't take me to the naughty stool. He carried me over his shoulder to the front door and opened it. Cold. I was cold. I hate the snow, it's freezing. I was in my Pyjamas and I got thrown threw the air and landed in the snow with a light thump. I was terrified. The last time I was out in the snow, I was wearing a massive coat, gloves and hat but still got blue lips and finger tips, that's what made me even more scared. My arm throbbed and I looked at it as pain shot through me. no pain had been like this before but I refused to call out. My left arm was dangling in a strange position. I hadn't learnt this in school. We just learnt how to count to 100 and about the words 'because', 'but' and 'so'.
*End flashback*
At the age of 7 I gave up asking and started to wonder the questions answer. I still don't know why it took me 2 whole years to stop. During those years I had gained bruises from being dropped onto the stool and occasionally missing, hitting the side of it or smashing into the floor as when I was 6 my dad started throwing me down. I also got smacked on the face and sometimes punched. In a way, they were abusing me.
*Flashback*
"Jace, come over here please" my teacher asked, she was always ever so friendly so I walked over "Are you alright?" she asked in her sweet voice. I nodded to Ms. Shirley and she continued "How did you get that bruise on your face?"
"Tripped," I answered but she didn't believe me
"It's in the shape of a hand." Ms. Shirley stated with a worried look on her face, I stayed still and didn't respond "Jace, are your parents abusing you?"
"Ms, what does that mean?"
*End flashback*
My Mum never really spoke to me, it was just along the lines of 'Get here now' 'say thank you' 'say sorry' 'say please' but she was nicer than Dad, she didn't harm me or threaten me just ignored my questions and words.
When I was 8, she died... my dad claimed it to be a heart attack.
*Flashback*
Mummy wasn't around anymore, hasn't been for a couple of weeks and I was worried. Generally she would go on trips for months on end, generally with daddy as well. I would be left alone but this time, I was worried, generally worried.
I like the word 'generally' and I looked it up in the dictionary and memoried the meanings.
Generally
adverb
1. In most cases means usually
'The term of a lease in generally 99 years'
Similar: Normally, in general, more often than not, mainly, mostly, for the most part, predominantly, on the whole, usually, regularly, typically, commonly, ordinarily, traditionally, historically
Opposite: occasionally
2. In general terms; without regard to particulars or exceptions
'a decade when france was moving generally to the left
Similar:...
but I didn't get that far and never memorized the similar words to definition number 2. I'll be truthful here, I don't know what a 'lease' is, and i don't know what 'predominantly', 'traditionally' and 'decade' mean.
I got interrupted by my dad coming into my room and sitting on my bed next to me. He looked sad. But I never made eye contact. I didn't even say hi.
"Your mum..." he paused and I titled my head to the side in question "Is dead." Another pause to let that sink in but it didn't "She died of a heart attack." and then the words flooded in my head and I let a tear fall.
*End flashback*
I didn't ask anymore questions on mum or what my parents did for a living but longed to at the age of 14 when I found out what really happened to mum. I was searching through the kitchen cupboards...
*Flashback*
Dad was out, again. And I was once more left to make my own meals and deal with loneliness. There was nothing in the kitchen cupboards that was even mildly edible anymore and the fridge just held glumpy milk, mouldy cheese and mustard.
Searching through another cupboard I saw some files and pulled them out but only one had something in. Opening it with caution to what I might find, I saw a name. My mother's name (Imogen Tyler).
The papers were blank apart from that one and I was curious once moreredfcx (AN. I am just going to leave that jumbled word there because my cat flopped onto the keyboard and it was really funny and now my cat is just standing on the other side of the room to me looking completely innocent with massive eyes so let's take another go) more and knew I would get told off the moment my dad finds out about this but took another looks and read the two sentences below my mother's name. It read
'Death by bullet to forehead, directly between eyes. Death told to family (exception of Jaime Tyler): heart attack'
*End Flashback*
Since then I found out that my dad and mum were assassins along with my uncles and aunts, and basically all my family except me. Then when I became an adult and went into the SAS then got married and had children myself (two beautiful girls, we were going to have a boy but he died within a month) I was very protective and loved them so much, but they died from a bomb to the house when I was training. From there, I became the sergeant.
So when I found out Alex/Cub/Jaguar was without a family , I had to look after him. MI6 said I couldn't adopt him because they were his guardians. But me and Alex are still like Father and Son. For me, the son I never really had and him, the father he never really had.
Author's Ending note
The next chapter we will get back to the main part of the story but for now:
You know that cat I kept on talking about (her name is blackberry)... she was sitting at window on the windowsill then she turned sharply and dived onto my bed and scrambled under the covers. Blackberry made herself as small as possible and started high-pitch meowing. So I unclawed (not a word) her from the covers and took her downstairs. She got out of my grip and ran outside through the open backdoor. Blackberry sprinted away to the left of the garden then back to the right, then to the left and back to the right. This was no longer cute nor funny but serious as we had no idea what was going on. She ran off towards the nearby road and through the hedge into the driveway. Blackberry then came back through acting as if she had seen a ghost. Ok, i admit it... this was rather funny as Blackberry is very fat and when she runs her tummy swings from side to side and jumps up and down. She sprinted into the house and turned into the living room sharply by leaping up to a wall and springing off it like a ninja. She in now curled up tightly under a blanket she pulled off the back of a sofa.
To make this whole thing more funny, please can some of you come up with some crazy funny ideas to what she could have seen.
I honestly can't stop laughing and shaking uncontrollably from memories of her tummy jumping up and down.
Am I going to die of laughter? help me!
Have a great day
;) (;