My Happy Little Phil | Phan (EDITING)

6) Fun

But don't you wanna see the world, boy?
All the countries and the stars, boy?
Just don't look them in the eyes, boy
You just gotta take their lives, boy
Let me take you for a drive, boy
Oh I swear you'll feel alive, boy

January 20th

I saw my father today. He gave me some..news.

My father is a war veteran. After the war ended he had been unable to give it up so he stayed and remained a general. He has been to this day. He and I don't speak often. In fact, the last time I actually saw him in person was Daniel's birth nearly two and a half years ago.

Today he called me over to his place saying that he had important news and a proposition to make. As it turns out he had a certain formal letter to give me. He wanted me to go back with him to Afghanistan and join his forces.

I rejected at first, obviously. I have a job, a wife, a baby. I couldn't let Daniel grow up with one parent missing like I did, and I couldn't leave Mary behind. But my father continued to press me. He got into my head, glorifying the experience of warfare.

"I'm not a killer." I had insisted.

To which he replied gravely, "You may not think you are, son, but when you're on the field with a loaded gun, running on pure adrenaline, with only the hopes of protecting your colleagues and surviving you'll do what it takes." That was when he met my eyes and told me, "And in all honesty, in that moment, you've never felt so alive." The look in his eyes had been a mix of nostalgia and madness.

Some people suffer from PTSD but my father...he suffers from withdrawal. He craves the "thrill" of pulling a trigger and having it within his powers to take a life. He's been this way as long as I remember.

All you gotta do is trust that I'm being true
And do it for the people who love you

As I'd attempted to find any sort of argument he'd put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Trust me. It's the right thing to do."

I had to admit that his description of battle did sound somewhat appealing, and I did have a good cause to fight for. I was beginning to run out of reasons to refuse.

"I haven't got any experience." Was my final objection.

"We can fix that."

Let's go have fun, you and me in the old Jeep
Ride around town with our rifles on the front seat
Fun, you and me in the Middle East
Shooting at rocks, bullets cocked in the midday
Son, you and me in the old Jeep
Ride around town with our rifles on the front seat
Fun, you and me in the Middle East
Shooting at rocks, bullets cocked in the midday

He led me out of the house and we loaded into his jeep. He handed me a gun. Having grown up with a father in the military, I had of course learnt how to handle firearms, but they made me uncomfortable. This was why I was inexperienced. I'd never go out shooting with my father, as I never wanted to end up like him.

My father had me shoot at rocks and targets. I was actually a fairly good shot. Every bullet that left my gun sent my heart racing faster. I didn't know if I liked the sensation or not. Having so much power was absolutely terrifying.

My father continued to train me up to be a right good little soldier. We spent the rest of the day shooting at various things whilst driving around the back roads of my father's home. My father continued to tell me how well I'd fit in with the rest his soldiers.