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kaya Rose

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Jaymee

Chrys Tall

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Okay, now with the story!!!!

…A little while ago…

Chris slammed the door behind him, then raced around to the blind side of the cabin, and crouched among the wild honeysuckle bushes, pushing blooms out of his face.

He had to find out what they were going to do.
He had to make sure Connor didn't take his girl somewhere.

My girl...why do I keep calling her that? She's not my girl. She's not my girl. But she will be.

What seemed like decades later, Connor and Erin came out of the house, and his mouth nearly dropped.
Connor was in his swim trunks and Erin had on a pair of shorts and a white wife-beater.
Chris scowled, wishing he could jump out from behind the bushes.
But then it would seem like he was stalking them.
Which he was, technically, but that was beside the point.

"Nice car," Connor said, with a smile on his face.
Nice car…Chris mocked him with his face distorted.
Then, the two were in the car, and Connor buckled his seatbelt.
Chris sighed, wishing he could just get up and punch the stupid…prep boy in his face.
That would serve him right for making a move on his girl.

She's not my girl; she's not my girl…

"Craaappp…" Chris muttered as Erin took off, and Chris leapt out of his crouch straight into a run, knowing he was going to be limping later because he'd stretched his hamstrings.

He followed at a sprint, huffing and puffing to catch his breath as Erin sped up continually.

He kept to the side of the road, not daring to take his eyes off the rear view mirror, just in case she happened to look up for some reason, and if she did, he could veer off to the side and keep running without her seeing him.

Suddenly, the car started slowing down, and he was getting way too close. If Connor looked in the side window, he's see him, so Chris slowed down, and his legs protested angrily.

After she'd found a comfortable speed, Chris continued on his normal pace, which was a flat out sprint.

He looked at the gravel road, watching his feet fly and kick up dust.
When he looked up, Erin's head jerked, and he over-reacted, and he veered over to his left, eyes never leaving the rear-view mirror.
It turned out she was only looking at Connor, and then, he fell.

Tumbling, twisting and falling all at the same time, Chris crash landed onto the hard, compact earth floor, and with a cloud of dust, he finally stopped.

Groaning, he looked up just in time to see the car go left, and out of sight.

Chris rolled onto his back in pain, and looked up at the trees that canopied the open space.
He let his hand feel around to his back, and he moaned at the spasm that crept from his tailbone to his neck, and his hamstring was buzzing for attention.

"God, I'm STUPID!" he yelled, causing his back to spasm more.

He laid there for a couple more minutes.
Taking off after Erin now would be pointless, painful, and it wasn't worth it.
If she liked Connor, so be it.
But I'm not going to stand around and let him have all the fun.

Erin was everything he wanted in a girl.
Drop-dead gorgeous with beautiful, long, blond hair. Bright, big green eyes, cute little button nose, tall figure, rockin' body, tan skin…everything.

And if he didn't try to win her over, then he was stupid.

No, he was beyond stupid. His brain would've been like mashed potatoes.

Holding in a cry, he rolled over, and tried to push himself off the ground, but his brain wouldn't let him, and he stayed on the ground.
A couple people walked over to him, carefully treading around him like he was a hurt animal.
Chris looked over at them.
"Are you alright?" called the first girl with brown hair pulled into two braids on either side of her head.
Chris grunted. "Yeah," he replied, closing his eyes, wishing he were anywhere but where he was.

"Dude…why were you chasing that car??" asked a surfer dude with a brown bowl cut.

Chris ignored him. "Don't worry about it. Help me up?" he said, sitting up and extending a hand to the guy.
The guy leaned forward, grasped Chris' hand, and gently helped him up, while Chris bit his tongue to hold back a cry of pain.

When he was erect, he slowly relaxed his muscles, starting with his shoulder blades, which were as high as his ears.

Then, he made his way down to his stomach and thighs, which he decided, hurt the most.
"You going to be okay?" asked the girl.
Chris nodded, and slowly took the first agonizing step back to his cabin.

It hurt from his calf to his neck, but he sucked it up, and took another step. And another. And another.

Chris looked up at the people who came to help him, then past them, and searched for his cabin.

D-13 was only a little less than a half a mile away, and he could clearly see the lettering on the front of the cabin, but his eyes seemed to glaze over, and made it look like it was days away.

Chris boldly took another step and another and another until he was back on the road.

Every step felt like his hips were being displaced, and his spine was swaying from side to side in his back.

He sucked it up, bit his tongue, and continued.

After another twenty feet, he tasted the iron in his blood from biting his tongue so hard. He found a different place, and bit it, and kept moving.

The people who had found him left cautiously, keeping an eye on him just in case he fell again.

But Chris knew he wouldn't fall. He might stumble a bit. But he wouldn't fall.

He made his way to the first cabin on his way to his own, and grabbed a hold of the railing on their porch to hold himself up.
Breathing heavily, he focused on ignoring the pain, but it didn't work.

He'd taken health classes at school, and he knew that the brain needed a distraction to make all the other pain to go away.
His brain needed a more focused pain, like a broken hand, where everything was in one place, not spread out.

Chris came up to a stump and swung his leg into a stump, yelping, and gritting his teeth feeling the fresh throbbing pain in his foot. It was definitely a distraction. The rest of his body didn't hurt quite so bad anymore, and slowly, step by step, Chris made his way back to his cabin, and shut himself inside.

----

Erin stared at Connor through her sunglasses, thankful for the non-see-through lenses she'd been so picky about getting.
He wanted to see her.
He wanted to keep talking to her outside of camp.
Meaning, he wanted to stay in contact.
And that might mean…she wouldn't think of that yet. Too risky. And it might get her hopes up.

"So uhm…" Erin mumbled, searching for something to talk about.
There was so much she could ask him.
But of course, like always, she couldn't think of anything at the top of her head.
Luckily, Connor was better at that than she was.

"So, how old are you?" he asked.
"Seventeen." Erin replied.
"So you're a junior?" he asked her, tuning around on his back.

Erin shook his head. "I'm a senior." She replied.
"Oh," Connor said, surprised. "You're kinda young, aren't you?"
Erin shrugged. "I started school early," she replied casually.
"How come?" Connor asked her.
"I was in California at the time."
"So I'm guessing your dad is in the military." Connor assumed.
"He was." Erin agreed.
"Was?"

Erin nodded. "Yeah, he was...uhm…honorably discharged." She replied, fiddling with the material of her bathing suit.
"Ah." Connor said. "Mind if I ask why?"
Erin stopped in mid-swallow. It was suddenly hard for her to do anything. Her breathing became mysteriously labored, and her vision went in and out.
"Uhm..." Erin replied hesitantly.
The subject of her father was a serious one in her household, and was rarely discussed, even within the home.
Her mother would occasionally yell, "You wouldn't do this if your father were here," just to get some leverage on her two aging children and it was always a blow that incapacitated them both.

"Well, my father died." She informed him, almost not being able to say the words.
Connor's whole attitude toward their conversation changed. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry," he said sorrowfully.
Erin nodded. "It's not your fault," she told him with a fake smile.
Connor nodded. "I'm sorry I brought it up."
Erin shrugged. "It's fine. I'll never get over it if I don't talk about it, I guess."

"When…when did he…you know...when did it happen?"

Erin had to think about it.
"A year and a half ago." She replied. "He was tortured by the Iraqi Al-Qaeda people."

Connor grew stiff and she knew he was embarrassed for asking any more of her.
They were silent once more.

As they sat in silence, soaking up the sun, Erin's thoughts drifted to her father.
He was a tall, buff man, benching over four hundred pounds easily, and used to run marathons for causes like Breast Cancer and Leukemia. He was a Staff Sergeant of his regiment, and in charge of his little camp place of station in the Middle East. Basically, anything any related to guns, shooting, and killing was put in place by him.

Erin's family of three would sit at home every night waiting for a possible call, and most of the time, their hopes were shredded by the lack of ringing the phone would make.
Andrew and Erin never went to football games, basketball games, and if they went to the movies, it was a five o'clock show, and they would be sure to be home by eight at the least.

On the rare occasion that he did call, he was sure to be put on the phone with each of them, their mother getting the largest allotment of time, and they'd have a brief call over phone. Sometimes he'd be able to talk for an hour or more, sometimes it was a quick hello, and they had to hand the phone over to the other.

Sometimes, Mark would be able to tell his family that events of that day, and other times, he would tell them that he wasn't allowed to say, but from the tone of his voice, Adrienne and her kids always had a hankering of what happened that day.

Mark was never a very chipper guy. He was laid back with a very masculine aura around him. He was the hug that you needed on a bad day, and open ears when you just needed to talk. Adrienne always said Erin got her listening skills from her father.
But even though he never displayed great emotional response, those who knew him well could depict tones in his voice.

One time, Mark called, and Erin vowed never to forget the sorrow in his voice.
"Adrienne," he'd said over the speaker phone in her room. She didn't know her children were eavesdropping.
"We were attacked in camp today. And so naturally, we shot fought back."
"Mark, baby, you did what you had to." Adrienne tried to console her husband.
"Adrienne, I shot a boy. A boy. He wasn't even Andrew's age. He was like thirteen or something." He said, and Erin could hear his sniffle into the phone.
Adrienne was silent. What could she say to that?
Mark sniffled again. "Adrienne, when I saw that boy, I fell to my knees and I prayed."
Erin looked at Andrew, who had the same look on his face as his twin sister.

Their father was never the religious sort of man. He attended church with his family, but when it came to vocal worship, or singing, he just stood and read the lines on the projector. He usually never closed his eyes to pray, and he was highly critical of the preachers that preached to him.
So falling to his knees to pray was extremely rare. In fact, any show of religious relationship was a dead factor in Mark's life.

"Adrienne, I think God is punishing me." He cried. Adrienne sniffled now too.
"Baby, God wouldn't give you anything that you couldn't handle."
"Adrienne, I don't want to do this anymore. These are young children, who have no idea what they're doing! They're handed a gun, show them how to shoot and reload, and they're told to go with these people and if they don't kill so many Americans, they'll kill their families."
Mark was sobbing now.

Erin was amazed. She'd only seen her father cry twice in her life. Once when she was in the hospital with leukemia, and she told her daddy that God said to tell him that He loved him.
The second time was when his father died.
But neither of those times were any real tears. They were the eye sparkling tears, that let a couple of water drops roll down his cheeks, but they quickly dried away.

Now, her father, the huge, buff man with a concrete heart was sobbing on the phone.

Erin's heart went out to him, wishing she could only take a little bit of his hurt away and store it away in her own heart.

"Baby, God is watching over you, and He's helping you through this. Mark, you need to trust in Him, and He'll bring you through this."
Andrew stood, and started pulling Erin away from the door.
The last thing she ever heard her father say was, "Tell Erin and Andrew I love them. I love them so much. And you, Adrienne. I am so in love with you, baby, you're my world." all the while, Mark was balling.

Two weeks later, Erin's household was filled with anticipation and hostility.
The lack of phone calls from their father was starting to cause them to worry, and they all grew uptight.
Erin and Andrew went out that night to get take-out Chinese.
When they came home, Adrienne was cradling the phone, tears running down her face like marathoners and she was on the floor, holding onto the couch for support.
Her eyes were closed painfully, and she sobbed for air. The way she was crying automatically made tears spring to Erin's eyes. She already knew without having to ask.

"Oh, no no no," she pleaded, and sank next to her mother.
She looked at the phone in her mother's limp hand.
"Mrs. Daniels?? Are you there?" said a very military sounding voice.
Adrienne sucked in more air and wailed mournfully.

Andrew took the phone from his mother's hand.
"Yes sir, this is Andrew Daniels. Yes sir." Then, he was silent, and gave his sister a look, who was already to the hysterics her mother had gone into.

"Yes sir. Tomorrow wouldn't be better than any other day, so…" Andrew's voice faltered momentarily. "You…uhm...might as well come tomorrow." He whispered hoarsely.

Erin could see the tears welling up in Andrew's eyes too.

Andrew hung up the phone, and it dropped onto the chair.
Erin looked at Andrew for some courage, something that could keep her strong for her mother.

But Andrew then closed his eyes, and his forehead wrinkled, and he huffed, letting the tears fly.
Then, he crumpled to the floor in a head, and he, too, started to sob.

"Oh my God!" Andrew cried out, and he let his face touch the rug.
Berny, their black lab, walked out from around the corner, and saw his owners all in a heap on the floor, and he tilted his head and whined.
Berny then laid on the floor and stared at Andrew.
Erin patted the floor next to her, and Berny crawled slowly over to her, rested his head in her lap, and whined.
"Oh God," Andrew pleaded, reaching out for Erin's hand.
Erin grabbed it blindly, her vision blinded by a continuous waterfall of tears, and she felt Andrew's grip tight on her fingers, but she didn't complain.

The three stayed on the floor for an hour, and for the most of the time, Andrew prayed while his mother and his sister listened.
Adrienne would rush into a new spring of tears if Andrew mentioned his father, and when she did, Andrew would grip Erin's hand a little tighter, as though to dispel some of his pain away.

For the next month and a half, the Daniels family shut themselves away from the world, not daring to leave the house much because they'd encounter people who would ask them how they were, and the Daniels just weren't ready to talk about anything just yet.
The school had allotted Erin and Andrew three weeks of mourning time, but it just wasn't enough. Things changed drastically from then on.

Andrew broke up with his girlfriend of four months. He just didn't want her to feel bad because he didn't want to be around her anymore and during that time, Andrew and Erin grew extremely close.
Sometimes, during the middle of the night, Andrew would come into Erin's room, his face red, puffy and soaking wet and Erin would get up and hug him. She'd never seen Andrew anything more that a little upset.
But their hearts had been torn out. Mark was a very prominent part of their lives, and now he was gone, and he was never coming back.

Adrienne became depressed, and Andrew forced her to see the doctor to get put on medication.

Andrew broke his arm falling down the stairs, and worst of all, Erin had a relapse, and was hospitalized for three months.

The leukemia was fought once again, but for some reason, her heart stopped beating, and gave the doctor's a reason for their high salary.

When she was stable once again, Andrew came in with flowers and a bear, and gave his sister a big hug.
"Andrew," she said, and Andrew looked at her.
"Dad says he loves you," she told him simply, and Andrew's eyes welled up with tears.

"He also says that he's very proud of you, and that he wants you to stop trying to be the man of the house and it's okay to be sad for a while." She told him, and Andrew gripped her hand.

"But dad also said that he's still with us, even though we can't talk anymore. And he misses us. He says he misses us more than anything."
Andrew was silently sobbing, and Erin smiled at him.

"He said he wants you to go into his safe. Get me a piece of paper," Erin instructed.
Andrew jumped up obediently, knocking his chair over, and grabbed a napkin and snatched a pen out from a drawer.
"The combination is 36-69-20." Erin told him, and Andrew wrote it down.
"He says that you're in charge of making sure everything gets to everyone. There's a special something for us all, and he's told me to make sure you invest in it wisely."
Andrew nodded.
"But he said to tell you that you're were better than any son he could ever ask for, and that he's proud of you for taking care of mom and getting her the pills. He says that it's really nice where he's at, and he's met that Iraqi boy he shot. His name was Haakeeim, and he says hello."

Erin finished off with descriptions of her father.
"Andy, he wasn't bloody or anything. He didn't have any…wounds, or scars or anything. And he was pale. He seemed…happy, Andy. He said not to be sad, but he knows we're going to be for a while. Andy, I saw him for real. You believe me, don't you?"

How could he not believe her? No one knew that combination to his safe, not even his wife. And Erin seemed amazed that she was even saying all this herself, so how could he doubt her.
"Of course I do." He told her.

Two weeks later, a man came to their doorstep and knocked on the door. Berny barked while Erin put on her hat. People tended to stare at her bald head.
When she opened the door, she saw a young man in green marine formals and the funny hat on top his head. He was standing next to a particularly large box.
"Daniels residence?" he asked.
Erin nodded solemnly, and let him in the door, shooing Berny away.

"Andrew! Mom!" she called through the house. "Berny, stop barking!" she commanded, and Berny sat impatiently, staring intently at the stranger.

Adrienne and Andrew came out together.
"Hello Mrs. Daniels, I'm Lieutenant Sherman and I've got your husband's belongings." He said shortly.

Adrienne gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, and she gripped Andrew's should with the other hand.

Lieutenant Sherman inclined his head. "I'm also here to inform you that there are certain documents that we need for a couple days, and I'll personally deliver them back to you in three days or so." He informed them.
"Well, what do you need?" Adrienne asked.

"A packet of papers that your husband has left in his safe. I have the combination if you don't have it."

Andrew stared at the guy. He hadn't yet opened the safe. "What's the combination?" he demanded.

Lieutenant Sherman pulled a paper out of his front pocket. "It's written on here."
Erin walked over to Andrew's shoulder to see if she was right.
The piece of paper had "Staff Sergeant Mark Daniels' safe #: 36-69-20" on it.

Wordlessly, Andrew led the Lieutenant to the computer room where the safe was, and punched the numbers into the code box. It dinged for correctness, the lock scraped open, and it cracked open a little.
Andrew slowly pulled the door out all the way, and let the Lieutenant in for what he wanted, which was a thick manila envelope that had "For Lieutenant Sherman" on it.

He looked at Adrienne. "It was nice talking to you," he said, tipped his hat, and saw himself out while Adrienne and her children stared at the safe.

There were pictures that Erin and Andrew had made for him back in the second grade haphazardly taped up like a boarder around the safe. It was an eight foot tall by three foot wide safe, so many pictures were hung.

There was a cubby for papers on the door with neatly placed documents and other things in it.

There was a cubby box locked with each of their names on it, and all three were locked.
"Try our birthdays," Erin suggested, and Andrew reached forward, turning the dial for his birthday.
The lock clicked open.

He reached inside and pulled out a large briefcase that weight about ten pounds.
He set it on the computer desk, and stared at the lock on the front.
Andrew put in each of their birthdays, and none of them worked, so he stood back, and scratched his head.
Erin reached forward, and put in her fathers birthday, and the briefcase popped open.

Inside were neatly arranged one hundred dollar bills.

Adrienne gasped, and Erin's mouth drop.
"I've been saving all of this up for the day that I wouldn't be around." Andrew read from a note their father had left them.
"Andrew, my son, it is your responsibility to invest wisely. I suggest putting it in a bank under your mother's name, and when you're old enough and move out, both you and your sister have enough for two years full tuition for college, with enough for your mother to live off of. If you and/or your sister do not attend college, or drop out, your mother is entitled to withhold the money from you, and do whatever she pleases with it, whether it be to use it for herself, or save it for something else. I love you, Andrew. Lovingly, your father."

When Andrew finished reading, Erin shut the case. "We're putting it into the bank," she said, looking at him.
Andrew nodded his head, and looked back at the safe, where Adrienne was pulling items out of her box.

Tears were rolling gently down her face, but she was smiling, holding a picture.

She showed it to her children.
"This is when you were born." She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, for that was all she could manage without her voice cracking.
Her mother and father were holding them, her Mark with the pink swaddled baby and Adrienne with her son.

Adrienne flipped it over, and in Mark's almost perfect swirly cursive was written, "The best day of my life, Andrew and Erin, March 13, 1991"

Andrew gently tugged at his sister's arm, and the two left the room to let their mother go through her things alone.

---

"You okay, Erin?" Connor asked her.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was just…I'm fine. You know…" Erin sat up. "We're at the pool. Let's get in the water." She said, making an effort to forget the memory she'd just walked herself through in the short amount of time.
Connor jumped up. "Alright," he said happily, and he took her hand, and jumped into the pool.

Hey, thanks for reading!! But since you read, you must review!! Haha!

Anyway, tell me what you think!!

xoxo

-Leo