The Letter

Chapter 4

Alright, so Happy Memorial Day! (I had this chapter written in a notebook, however, I lost the notebook, so this is going to be a quick write) I am writing as much as I can today as an honor of our military. I, myself, am a military child, my father was in the Armed Forces, so I have taken it as a personal duty to honor the forces in the only way I can today. Thank you all for your support to the troops.

I was slipping in and out of consciousness. Occasionally, I saw a flash of light. I didn't know where I was. All I could remember was that I was a soldier named Daesha.

I couldn't move. I couldn't hardly breathe. My entire focus was on breathing, no matter how hard it was. I was cold, but I couldn't complain, because I physically couldn't.

I could barely feel a bandage, when I'd remembered I'd been shot. Then, I woke fully. There were bright lights in my eyes, people shouting and running, and then, the ever favored, flashlight directly in my eyes.

"Glad, you're awake, Sergeant. Maybe this time, you can stay awake." I recognized the high pitched sound of one of the nurses here, another one of our family friends, Jana.

"Thanks, but knowing my luck..."

"Major Rogers says you only have two years left."

"Yeah? Well, that's still two years down the road, with a shot that could have killed me."

"It's only two years, it was supposed to be four. I believe you're pretty lucky."

"I'm away from my family, and you think I am lucky? I'm fighting for my life . . . two years. I'm dying every second, and you still believe I'm LUCKY? The only thing I'm lucky about, is that I'm here, and not dead." I whispered the last bit. " . . . Yet."