Picture of Rachel
Song To The side.
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Glancing around the airport, the heavy feeling of this baggy uniform was soon going to be in the past along with the ups and downs that came from it. Being the in Marines came with its good memories, so did the lingering pain that managed to stab the way through every tightened fabric. It was good while it lasted just four years in and I refused to sign another contract to stay longer, even if the advantages were higher.
Walking closer to the terminal number, people were beginning to line up with the employees checking their tickets, it was a long day, one that I was looking forward to once I got home there was a lot of catching up to do. Every time a returned there was always something new, first my brother decided to move out then my childhood friend was venturing outside the city limits to expand his career.
Swinging the duffle bag over my shoulder I peaked a glance at my feet then the line that was growing shorter, "It's been a pleasure working with you," Santiago stated while walking me to the terminal of my flight. We had a long history of friendship through Ernesto even though it was cut short he was there with me at the funeral and during my last few months.
+Turning to face him I grinned weakly, it's has been a long ride with this man that became my trusted companion, "Thank you, don't forget to write asshole." He laughed shaking his head then pulled me in for a quick-side-hug.
Arriving on the plane I can feel a few people staring at me either for admiration or curiosity for what I have done, but being in the Marines for four years I have gotten used to the stares from time to time, but sometimes I did mind it when I was visiting my family, especially when taking a taxi and the drivers will ask questions about my deployment.
Sitting by the window seat after putting my backpack inside I took off my cap running back the strands of hair poking out from the bun, but with the buzzing coming from the miniature windows the thrusting of the plane moved forward. I soon imagined the pilot guiding the plane forward, I had a friend in the Air Force and she will always eating bubblegum or hard candy to handle the blockages in her ears, she actually gave me some for my flight back home.
A few hours into the flight I opened my eyes, seeing the reflection of the sunlight glaring inside the plane I didn't know whether to smile or sigh through my nose softly, but I decided not to do either. Cracking the side of my stiff neck I wound up yawning instead of rubbing my tired eyes while hearing from the flight attendant informing everyone that the plane should be landing very shortly.
I looked over to my right seeing that the two passengers sitting are already starting to get their luggage ready, but feeling the slight turbulence made me tense up and jump at the feeling of it. Rubbing my eyes, I looked around seeing that no one notices. I'm glad they didn't though, its a bitch to try to explain that I'm fine.
After a few minutes of waiting for the plane to land, it finally did. I was glad we landed it was starting to get very irritating. When getting up putting on the backpack I saw a couple of people staring at me; being in the marines you have to wear a uniform and the backpack that feels heavy at times when you're simply tired. I saw men, women, teenagers, and kids it gave me the memories of what I saw back on the battlefield.
When finally stepping out of the border of the plane, I breathed in deeply filling my lungs with air that seemed to be entering purely. Walking furthermore to where the chairs are and people getting aboard the plane once again. I looked around and continued to walk heading to get my duffle bag.
Panting lowly I ran a hand up my arm knowing that this anxiety is getting the best of me. I walked up to the cherry wooden door, with a deep breath. I knocked four times then stopped instantly once hearing distinctive high heel footsteps clacking lightly on the floor from the inside. With that clacking on the floor from left to right the door flew open softly seeing the person in front of me made me smile brightly that my teeth must've shined.
"My....Oh my gosh, I'm so happy your home" My mom pulled me into the tightest hug I ever felt in my life, I hugged her back to missing the warmness of these hugs filled the coldness that I felt in the war.
The tears dripped down my neck as I felt my mother shed more every second, "Please don't leave me again." she told me sobbingly in the most desperate tone. I just nodded in a numbing way, knowing I'm not going anywhere.
I took a deep breathe when entering the house, but it felt different seeing the pictures of me and Francis on the wall against the staircase. I close my eyes still able to hear the bullets blazing only to face the horror that was kept frozen on the civilian's faces. My mom walked back past explaining to me she has recently been promoted then telling me she'll be back to get some take-outs from an Indian restaurant; I wasn't paying attention only to feel my heart racing when I can't get the thought of the war out of my head.
Leaving my backpack near the door I place my duffle bag leaning againsg it, "Wow you leave for the Marines as a girl, and now look at you." I laughed shaking my head looking over at the kitchen. Alex was leaning against the counter with a kool-aid smirk, "Just face it Alex. You're a painted man whore" What I told him wasn't true; Alex can be many things, but a player wasn't one of them.
Alex and I go way back when we first met in the 8th grade, but during that time me and Alex couldn't stand each other but now my use to enemy became my best friend through Francis within the years we became really close. I sat down on the chair looking at Alex, Alex seemed to change a lot through the years; he use to have pimples, braces, and not so good hair cut but who cared he has a really 'Okay' personality.
"You don't seem so talkactive today," Alex told me sitting down across from the light brown table having that antique look to it somehow.
"After spending four years in the marines it...-" I couldn't bring myself to explain to Alex why I have been so quitely silent, it was that painful sileness that only yourself will know as I ask, "So hows being a writer and painter going for you?" Changing the subject instead, for a second I can see that Alex wanted to ask me something but shook his head
"Fucking awesome, I got five clients already," he said with the tone of excitment.
After talking more than thirty mins my mom came in and we ate, my dad and brother wren't here, yet since they went out of town for two weeks for some small meeting for their franchise tattoo place. I went up my bedroom laying down, but for some just didn't feel comfortable so I slept on the floor with one blanket.
Few Hours Later
I felt myself halfway awake during the night and even now that it's 4:20 am, turning to lay on my back I felt someone touch my should kneeling down next to me at the same. I grabbed that person hand and flipped them on their back twisting their hand behind their back strabbling myself ontop of them "Monica its me Francis" he groans in pain.
"No its not" I squeezed harder panting but when I looked closer it is Francis "I'm sorry. I really am" I said letting go of his arm as I got off of his back.
Leaning against the headboard of my bed, Francis rubbed his arm wincing lowly but tried not to show that he is in slight pain "My arm is okay Monica, you really got strong over the years" he said in an amused tone
"I need to go for a walk," I said trying too cool my panicking memories inside of my time clock head
"It's late just wa-" before Francis can finish his sentence I jolted out of the door, down of the stairs qucikly: I need to breathe. I can feel my memories having a flashback of the ambush. I need to walk and cool down before I loose myself.
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Memories of Dispair (Editing)
General FictionMonica Georgiana has finally came home, after serving five years into the Marines she came home with no physical injuries that are major, but there is one problem she has PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) since she came home. Monica changed from...
