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Rated: E · Short Story · Tragedy · #1975416
Two newly weds ripped apart by a war. Both sides of the story.
‘Til Death Do Us Part

He gazed at her with a longing expression in his dark brown eyes. He knew he couldn't stay much longer. The plane was about to fly off into the world without him. He wanted it to leave.
         
“Caroline, I have to go. The plane is about to leave.” She put on a sincere smile and said, ”James, please be safe. Come back to me.” She barely managed to say this as her sobs overwhelmed her voice, her tears making lines down her pale face. He looked sullenly into her soft gray-blue eyes and used a calloused hand to brush back her long brunette hair. He then pulled her close and laid his lips on hers. Feeling guilty about leaving her alone, he broke the tender moment and vowed, “I will come back for you. I promise.”
         
---
James

A single tear rolled down James’ cheek as the plane took him away from the love of his life, who was still standing motionless on the take-off mat. Before he could wipe it away so the others wouldn’t see, he realized all of the other men were crying too. Some with just a single tear, others completely breaking down. James no longer felt the need to hide his emotion. He knew already that he would have to stand beside them in battle so such a small thing as showing emotion didn’t really matter to him at this point.

When Caroline finally disappeared from view, James took his gaze away from the window to the picture he had in his pocket. It was, of course, of him and Caroline on their wedding day. She is the most beautiful woman in the world he thought for what seemed like the thousandth time. He hated himself for leaving her. All he could hear over the sound of the plane engine was the echo of the sweet sound of Caroline’s voice as she whispered “I love you.” These words played like a soundtrack over and over in his head until a man’s voice abruptly brought him back to the present, “Alright soldiers, we’re about to touch down. We’re going down in a red zone. We have to be quick. Am I understood?” A unison “Yes sir” was spoken harshly from the rest of the men on the plane, including James.

As soon as the plane touched down, true to the words of the sergeant, the men were out of the plane with all the equipment they needed in under a minute. To James, there was something horribly different about the atmosphere of this place. The air was heavier than it was back home, as if the place itself was trying to strangle him. Before James had time to absorb anything else about his new environment, he was ordered to move towards the base. It was set up about a mile into the jungle which was thick with flora and fauna of all types. The men were forced to carry over 50 pounds of gear each. James felt like he was going to sink into the moist ground.

After half an hour of hiking through the thick jungle and trying desperately to avoid being caught in the path of something dangerous, they finally reached the base. It was full of men of all sizes carrying firearms of all shapes. At first, James felt intimidated, but it only took him a moment to realize that soon he would become an emotionless zombie, just like the rest of them. This thought scared him, for he didn’t want to change. He wanted to be the same man when he finally went home to Caroline. With this mere thought of her, he was taken back into his memory. He was snapped out of it by the sound of close gunfire. This is where it begins I guess he thought miserably.

James and all the other soldiers moved into cover. The gunfire was ceaseless for hours, very little of it coming from the barrel of James’ gun. He only shot when he absolutely needed to. He was doing better than some. Some of the full grown men, also drafted into the army away from their docile lives, were crouched in a corner crying with their gun laying on the dirt in front of them, the safety still on. They weren't prepared for this violence. No one ever is.

James got continually braver with his gun as the attacks continued. The days melted together into the same routine: Wait for an attack, shoot, wait for the shooting to stop, then reload and do it all over again. James knew he only had four years of this horror to endure until he could return to Caroline.

Finally, it was his last week trapped in the hell they call a war-zone. James was completely packed up with the few things he still had and anxious to get home once again. The plane that was going to take him back to the woman he was sure was the love of his life landed not far from where James stood. He grabbed his few things and started running for the plane. Suddenly, gun shots rang out. Everyone started to grab their rifles, ready to defend their base. James had done this procedure hundreds of times, but something about this attack seemed particularly saddening. Maybe it was because the enemy was stalling his reunion with Caroline.

The thought of this sent James into a rage. He grabbed the nearest gun he could find and started shooting any enemy he saw. His accuracy was unusually dead-on. One after another after another the enemy soldiers fell, their blood poisoning the air with a sharp metallic scent. Then, everything went horribly wrong. James didn't realize there was an enemy soldier behind him, who was taking his time in aiming at James as if the perfect shot could make up for all the friends he had just lost. He finally pulled the trigger and let loose a bullet into James’ back. James fell fast to the ground, losing consciousness and blood at a rapid rate. His only thought was of Caroline. No. No! I promised her I would come back from this place! I can’t let her down! Somehow, it wasn't the bullet wound that hurt. His heart felt the most pain because he knew he had just broken his promise and Caroline’s heart. With seconds left to live, he used the last bit of strength he had left to pull the picture of his wife out of his pocket and kiss it. “I’m sorry” he whispered with his final breath.

---
Caroline

Caroline was wordless as she watched the plane take her newlywed husband a continent away from her. She glared with malice at the emblem on the side. It was the symbol for the U.S. Army. James had been drafted to fight in a war that he didn’t even believe in. Caroline despised everything that had to do with taking her one true love away, even her own country. James was due back in four years. She counted every single day as they passed. Some were much harder than others. Days she spent with family and friends were better. They all reassured her that her loving husband would return home just as he had been before he was taken away. Caroline wished she believed them, but their words were comforting. To have a tangible feeling of familial and friendly love in the air seemed to dissolve some of the depression. Though, when she was alone, the horrible cold feeling crept back into her.She felt the loneliness increase every night.

She needed his strong arms around her to chase away all the sadness she felt. Caroline missed so much the little things he did to please her. She missed his laugh, the sparkle in his eyes when he smiled, even the way he playfully contradicted everything she said. She kept a special calendar on her nightstand marked only with the day of James’ return and every morning she would wake up and cross off another day. She watched as the days passed dwindled away into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. As her beloved’s day of return drew nearer, she found herself happier.

Finally, the day of James’ return had arrived. Time passed so slowly as she sat by the window, watching and waiting anxiously for any sign of his return. Caroline began to worry as she watched the hands of the grandfather clock across the room ticking past when she thought she would see him. First five, six, then seven o’clock. The hands of the clock seemed to drag the sun away. Finally, as the sun had almost disappeared, a black car pulled into the driveway. She jumped up elatedly even though she couldn’t see if James was in the car because the window tint was so dark. He’s finally come back! He’s safe! But to her dismay, it wasn’t her husband that stepped out of the military-issue SUV. Instead, three men in Army fatigues stepped out. Caroline’s heart sank, dreading bad news.

“Hello, officers. Where is James?” Their faces darkened substantially at the mention of her husband’s name. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” she asked trying desperately to choke back the tears. Then one of the men stepped forward and took off his hat. “I’m so sorry ma’am but,” “No! He promised he would come back! He promised!” Caroline screamed, interrupting the man in front of her. She fell to her knees, put her head in her hands and sobbed. “I’m so sorry,” said the stranger. One of the other two men handed her a piece of fabric embroidered with stars and stripes, a folded American flag. She clung hopelessly to the only thing she had left of James as the three men went back to their car and drove away. She hated the thing she held onto so tight, but all she knew was that she couldn’t let go.

Days later, at James’ funeral, Caroline was emotionless as she watched the body of the only man she had ever loved being lowered slowly into the ground. All of a sudden, she fell as if she had lost her balance. Several ran to her side but soon realized there was nothing they could do. Her heart had already stopped. The coroner searched over and over again for any explanation for her demise. There was nothing to be found. If you share my beliefs, than you know as well as I do that Caroline died of a lonely, broken heart.
© Copyright 2014 M. Fletcher (life_is_music at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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