Blackwell Academy, Arcadia Bay Oregon, October 9th, 2013, 10:00 AM

James peddled all the way to the campus parking lot, almost out of instinct he dragged the bike over the rack and placed it along with all the other bicycles before making his way up to the dormitories. Going up the stairs and down the hall without little thought before pushing open the door to his room, He scanned the area only to realize Alex was nowhere to be seen

James checked his watch and realized it was a little after ten o'clock. Technically he should have been in classes today but he decided against it and took the day instead, It would affect his grade but it's not like he really cared. James walked over to his bed and sat down on it, He then looked over to his nightstand which housed a single cheap lamp that half the time didn't even work, with a sigh he pulled open the drawer on the stand and pulled out a medium-sized notebook from it.

James hadn't looked in this book in such a long time. He opened the book to be greeted with a blank white page with the words "Fond memories" written cursive at the top of the page

He turned the page and found an old picture of two men probably no older than he is now with their arms wrapped around their shoulders, from the looks of it they were probably friends. the man on the right had Long brown hair and a rounded face with a warm smile, he wore a grey plaid shirt with a black T-shirt underneath, while the man on the left had more grown out dark hair that stopped past the neck, covered his ears, and was parted loosely to the right of his head. A haircut not all the different from James', he wore a white T-shirt and a Boston Red Sox sports jacket, James studied the latter's features more intently, the man looked almost exactly like James did. In the bottom of the page was an inscription written in faded blue ink.

"Tommy and Will, SEPTEMBER 1989"

James flipped the page to find what appeared to be a marriage photo, a man and woman stood together with warm pleasant smiles on their faces, the woman had dark brown hair that stopped past the shoulders and wore an elegant white dress, The man looked similar to the young man in the previous photo with a more cleaned up haircut and a well-trimmed brown beard across his face which hid some of his features.

The next page was a copy of the picture of the man in the Marine dress uniform from his home that James had seen before so he turned the page again

James found himself staring at a picture of the man, now clean shaven wearing combat gear and a helmet while holding an assault rifle in his hands, he had sunglasses over his eyes which hid them from the camera, yet in every picture this man had that same warm pleasant smile, the picture was dated 05/21/03 over ten years ago, James' heart sank after looking through this scrapbook, Hesitantly he flipped the page again, having reached the end of the book.

The last page was the same picture of the man from the last page, below the picture was the same cursive writing as on the front page reading:

"In loving memory. Thomas Henry Makintosh 1972-2003, loving father, friend, husband, and servant to his country"

James shut the book and placed it back into the drawer and closed it, reflecting back to that day...

531 Westwood drive, Arcadia Bay Oregon, May 24th, 2003, 3:00 PM

James was sitting at his table drawing some random thing that came into his mind, His mother came through the door and closed it behind her, normally James wouldn't have paid any mind to it as she had been working on opening up the flower shop along the coast, but there was something off about her, she kept looking around the house, not saying anything to her son, even apparently wiping her eyes for whatever reason

James got up from the table and walked over to her, his mother now having noticed her son's presence knelt down and embraced him tightly, he asked her what was wrong and she looked at him trying to find the right words to say to her son.

"yesterday your father..." She trailed off, James was confused and a little scared, his mother hadn't been this upset about his father since he left for that place, Af-ghan-istain? he still couldn't pronounce its name correctly.

Melissa took a minute to compose herself and continued what she was saying "Your father was in a fight, a-and he lost" she said with the tears already welling in her eyes again

"James. Your father is... dead..." She finally admitted. James didn't react. even though he was only eight years old he understood the concept of death fairly well, better than most kids his age. He didn't cry, he didn't weep, he felt...nothing as if all the light in his life was snuffed out by a cruel wind. The one man who he wanted to be like, to make proud. Was gone... Never to come home.

Everyone from the town turned out to show support at the wake, the Prices, the Caulfields, even the Prescott family came out to show their condolences. James was taken to see a child psychiatrist once he had returned to school, he talked with her and said what he thought and she jotted it down onto her notepad. Afterwards, she told her mother that he had suffered a complete emotional breakdown and had detached himself emotionally from everyone and everything.

He was prescribed medication but he never took it. After that day James felt like nothing mattered to him, Life had become completely numb, dull, joyless.

About two weeks after they buried Thomas Makintosh at the local cemetery just outside Arcadia Bay James sat on his bed clutching the only heirloom he had left from him, a pair of metal dog tags that bore his name, James placed the tags around his neck, convincing himself that so long as he had them with him. His father would watch over him. He remembered some of the words he said.

"Do enough good in the world, and some good will come to you"

Then on James made his goal in life to do enough good, an carry on his legacy

on that day in May. James Emmerich Makintosh Died. And an emotionless phantom took his place.