Sisters

Chapter 1: Lauren's Dad

Lauren's POV

Upon my arrival back home in America after my first year in an overseas college, I found that nothing was the same as how I had left it. I don't mean I just thought everything was weird after being in a foreign land for so long. Significant changes were made in my family—my seven year old half-sister Danielle was put into foster care yet again four months ago, probably because the social workers sent by the government came to inspect my mother's house, declared her unfit for childcare, and sent Danielle away. She was the second sister I had lost to the foster care system, the other was taken away at birth when I was two. I would have been sent there myself, but by the time my mom was officially unable to properly care for her offspring, I was already of legal age.

My mother was always running around getting drunk and  getting new boyfriends every three weeks. When I went to visit her a few days after I settled back in, she introduced me to her most recent boyfriend, a Robert Richmond who was significantly younger and a great deal richer than her. I don't even think she actually cares for him; she's probably gold-digging and will most likely dump him or be dumped by him in a couple more days. I'd bet my bank balance on it.

Lastly, but definitely not least, my father, my loving, caring father who helped conceive me, his flesh and blood, oldest daughter, the very man who raised me when no one else could, my father, was dead.

    Stone, cold dead.

    I found out the second I stepped into my home. I even called to check and see if there was any chance he was asleep or in a coma, or playing a prank like he always does to me, or anything besides, you know, dead. After arriving back at the apartment I shared with my three best friends, I was handed one of those medium-sized envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Inside the yellow packet was another business envelope and a letter formally addressed to Miss Lauren Nelson, from the United States Marine Corps. I feared the worst. The letter said:

  "To the Nelson family,
       
        We are so very sorry to bring this news, and it is with great solemnity and regret that we inform you that your father, William David Nelson, is sadly deceased. He was unfortunately shot down in Afghanistan while bravely shielding his fellow soldiers from a wave of bullets. This action did not go unremembered, and those he protected send their sincere love and thanks to your family for loving such a brave and courageous man. David served faithfully for twenty years and performed above and beyond what was asked of him. He trained, praised, and established personal bonds with each and every new recruit for that time; he motivated any soldier who felt like he couldn't go on; he shamelessly danced and sang for the amusement of the injured and invalid in the barracks. Such actions cannot be forgotten, and your father's memory lives on. Major Nelson was and still is an inspiration to every single soldier and staff member of Camp Dwyer Marine Base, Hemland River Valley, Afghanistan. With great condolences, and a heavy heart, we are humbly honored to present this medal for his spectacular service in the battlefield." 

     Inside the goldenrod business envelope-package thing was a medal, those really fancy ones with personalized engravings that only the highest rank of militants get. The ones that signify immense bravery and courage. The ones the families of dead people get. Wiping my eyes, I realized that my tears had spilled onto the letter, right below the existing text in a big, empty space. Almost instantaneously, the tears spread, even though there were only a few, and it wet the entire section of paper.

    I couldn't grasp what was happening.

"Come on Lauren, tell us what it says! We're dying to know," Cringing at her unintentional choice of words, I heard a voice coming from behind me. I didn't want to tell my friends the contents of the letter because I didnt want their pity.