DONAVAN

Chapter 1: Moving Back Home

Once I left the house I had nowhere else to go. My Father wanted nothing to do with me. He despised me. I knew it was my fault that Danny was dead. He didn't need to point that out. My Mother was just worried about me. I called anyway, the worst they could say was 'no I couldn't stay'. My Father answered.

"Hello."

"Hey dad, it's Jason....I was wondering if I could stay with you and mom until I get back on my feet."

"Did Maria finally grow a brain and kick you out?" He sneered.

"No, I left. I was tearing us apart...."

"Yes, you can stay, but only for a week."

"That's all I'm asking."

I hung up. At least I had somewhere to stay. I walked all the way to my parents house. Since the war I refused to drive, so that meant no job and no way to provide for myself or Maria. Once I arrived my Mother opened the door for me.

"Jason, sweetheart how have you been?" She asked, kissing me on the cheek.

"I could be better, mom. That's for sure." I hugged her tight.

"I'm so glad you came home, sweetheart. I'm sure your Dad will be happy to see you."

I just gave a sly smile. Mom never knew about the knockout, drag out fights and yelling matches dad and I when I first returned home. She worked almost 24/7 so she never saw. I followed Mom into the living room where my Dad sat watching television. He barely glanced my way. He gave a wave of his hand and I walked up stairs. Photos of Danny and I hung on the walls. Us laughing, crying, funny faces, family photos, and fake angry faces. One in particular caught my attention. Danny had brought his girl friend home. My mother had the camera ready to get their picture. It was prom night and they both looked stunning. I photo bombed the picture and instead of a formal before-prom-picture, the photo was of the of us three laughing. Danny had his arms around me in a tight hug, forgetting all about his date. Danny was seventeen in that photo. My gaze didn't waver from that photo for a few moments. Being twins everything about us was the same. Our ages, hair, and to an extent our personality. The only thing that was different was our eyes. Danny's were green and mine blue. If it wasn't for our eyes you couldn't tell us apart. I haven't felt whole since Danny died. Once my eyes blurred with tears I looked away and made my way to my old room. I sat my belongings on the bed and sat down. My mind swirled with thoughts of the war, Danny, and all the others I failed. I took my dog tags in my hand and turned them over. One was mine and the other was Danny's. I felt tears roll down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I'm so sorry.... I didn't mean to let you get hurt. I needed to bring you home...."

My Mother appeared in the doorway.

"Jason, sweetheart." She said.

She came and wrapped me into a hug. I hugged her back. The harder I tried not to cry, the harder I cried. My Mother took my head in her hands. She wiped away the tears that ran down my face with her thumbs.

"Jason, it's not your fault. God does everything for a reason. Danny loved his life and he died doing what he always wanted to do. I'm sure he would be so proud of you Jason."

"Mom, it is my fault. Danny died in my arms. I couldn't save him..."

My Mother allowed me to cry and rant. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. My Mother soon left me be.

"Jason, I'm going to fix dinner. Is there anything you prefer to have?"

I shook my head.

"I don't care what you fix, Mom. Thanks for taking my tears and rants without complaining. That's all Maria did, she always complained."

My Mother patted my knee and headed down stairs to start dinner.

******

Danny and I bounded down the stairs, both armed with fake guns.

"Put your gun down, Jase!" Danny shouted, doing his best tough guy voice.

"You gonna make me!" I shouted back, mocking him.

We began to fire at each other. Danny clutched his chest, making fake coughing noises and shouting that he'd been hit. I laughed and stood over him.

A wide smile broke across his face and he kicked my feet out from under me. I landed beside him, laughing.

******

I wasn't in the mood to eat dinner. I wanted to call Maria and check on her. It was early when I left the house. I left around two in the morning. My Father kept snatching glances at me. My eyes fell on an empty chair at the other end of the table.

Danny's chair.

"What's on your mind, Jason?" He asked

"Nothing, Dad. It's nothing."

"Why did you chose to come back here? Couldn't you've called up one of your war buddies and moved in with them."

I ignored the second question.

"What's wrong with wanting to move back in with your parents." I said

"Nothing I guess, but I expect you to get a job and provide for yourself."

"I will, Dad. I'm just having a hard time adjusting back to a normal life."

He gave a laugh but never made a comment. I didn't touch my food, I just dumped my food into the trashcan and limped back up to stairs.

*******

I tossed and turned in bed that night. I couldn't sleep. Rain pounded the roof and lighting ripped across the sky. The ceiling fan above my head spun in a fast circle. It began to sound like a helicopter. I felt myself being pulled back into the war.

"Come on, Donavan. It's your call. Can we shoot our way out of this or not!" Jackson whispered-yelled

We had infiltrated a Iraqi Military Base. It was five of my men and I. The enemy was closing in.

"Jason!"

I gave a nod and a five finger countdown. It was a hell of a shoot out. Then several explosions. As a portion of the building collapsed two of my men were killed. The fight ranged on. Soon I was attacked by the man who killed Danny.

"You sick fuck! You killed my brother!"

We fought a bloody battle, then all the sudden he exploded. I was launched backwards and slammed against the opposite wall. My ears were ringing and I saw nothing but red. An Iraqi soldier approached me and that's the last thing I remember before waking up in the infirmary. There, I was informed that the rest of men had been killed and I had barely made it out alive myself.

I woke up early that morning. I don't remember unstrapping my prosthetic leg. I stood and nearly fell.

"Damn it!" I snapped.

Grabbing my prosthetic leg I strapped it on what was left of my right leg and made my way down stairs. When I attacked by the man that killed Danny, I didn't realize that he was a suicide bomber. That's how I lost my leg and damaged my head. My parents didn't know about the head injury. The doctors said that it was a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). They also tossed around the possibility of PTSD becoming present. My parents didn't know that part either.

"Hey, Jason. How did you sleep last night?" My Mother asked.

"I slept okay once I got settled down."

"When are you thinking about looking for a job?" My Father asked.

"I don't know. I don't think I'm well enough to work."

"Nonsense, Jason. You are fine. So what, you have a prosthetic leg. You're fine."

"This shows what little you know." I snapped.

My Father rose to his feet, his hands clinched into fist.

"Hey! Jason, Mark, that's enough!" My Mother snapped.

I limped into the living room and sat down on the sofa, listening to my parents argue. I made a bad decision by moving back home.