Chasing a Ghost

Chapter One

Author's Note: 

Hey all :) This is my first time writing a story from the "you" POV - I've done my best to not write anything that might be inaccurate about "you". I'm sorry if I mess that up at times. 

Also, I don't know much about the military. I've done my best to try and make this story make sense though, and to make it seem at least mostly realistic.

If you all have any suggestions for me, or you find typos, or you don't like the way I wrote a certain part of the story - let me know!! I'm always open to both comments and criticisms so I can improve my writing.

Thank you for reading! 

The room you were in, warm and humid, erupted with booms of laughter and squeals of drunken excitement. The stress of Task Force 141 had come to a sudden halt after a cheerful end to an arduous mission, and it was time to celebrate.

You and your fellow soldiers huddled around a table, dimly lit by an overhead lamp, discussing how relieved you all felt to finally have some time to relax. Soap, your closest friend in the unit so far, sat to your right, nudging you as you stared down into your glass.

"Why aren't ya celebratin', soldier?" He asked you quietly.

You looked up from your frothy beer, your response somewhat delayed as your head began to succumb to the effects of the many drinks you'd already had. "I am celebrating," you responded when the thoughts finally came to mind. "Just got a lot on my mind, that's all." You gazed down into your beer once again, taking a long sip and enjoying the coolness of the liquid flowing down your throat. When you set the glass back down, your eyes wandered to the other side of the table, where you were surprised to see the Lieutenant gazing at you idly. Your eyes met for just a moment before you looked quickly back down at the beer, hoping he hadn't noticed your timidity. 

"I can tell when something's wrong with you," Soap nudged you again and you felt a slight twinge of annoyance, worried that Ghost might still be looking.

"Yeah, well," you snapped lightly, "I can't really talk about it right now, Soap."

He shrugged, tousling your hair and asking you to cheer up.

A few hours had passed, and your sleepiness was immeasurable. You glanced around at your coworkers, seeing that everyone else was still up and at 'em, having a good time. You wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

Your chair slid behind you ungracefully as you stood from the table, lurching slightly this way and that. Maybe I had one too many, you thought to yourself as you fumbled with the back of the chair, attempting unsuccessfully to push it back in. Quickly you gave up and your eyes scanned the smoky room for Soap. You saw him across the way at the pool tables, giving someone a run for their money as he prepared to strike a ball with a cue.

You quietly slid up to him, tugging at his arm to get his attention. He turned to look down at you, gazing up at him with sleepy, drunken eyes. "I'm going home," you sloshed tiredly.

He turned to face you fully, giving you a quick glance-over in his own drunken state. "Who's taking you?"

"Ugh Soap, what are you, my mom?" You responded irritably. "I'm getting an Uber! See you tomorrow." Without waiting to hear his response, you turned and quickly walked away, slightly stumbling out the door.

The cool night air greeted you, immediately providing relief from the stuffiness of the bar. You breathed it in deeply before pulling your phone from your pocket to get yourself a ride.