Remove your doubts. Kill your fears. - Shubhanshu Tiwari
My father was shot today on the battlefield.
He was immediately sent back to the states on an ambulance helicopter, and was treated to right as soon as his body was on the helicopter. He had more help once he got to the military hospital in Washington, D.C.
They phoned my family as soon as he arrived in the hospital. Eleanor and Jane, who were finally healing from my death, broke down into smaller pieces. They got to leave school early.
My mother doesn't believe any of it. She's numb.
Brennan and Walt came over after school. Brennan comforted Jane, and ended up skipping his dance practices to stay and comfort her. Walt comforted El for a little while, then made dinner for my family, Brennan, and himself. He was a very good cook. He made a chicken dish that I cannot remember the name of. They both left after that.
No one knows if he'll survive. Not even me. Only God knows, and he refuses to tell me. I wanted to smack him, but I kind of can't, 1: since He's God, and 2: I'm a what, remember? I would go right through the guy. He can touch me, but I would go right through Him.
I talked to my grandfather today. It's a little bit awkward, but we have a lot in common. My parents were completely right about me taking after my grandfather. We had the same hair and eye color, sense of humor, curiousity, and the quietness. We both don't talk much, but we don't have to, since he and I can talk with our eyes easily.
He told me a story of when my father was young. He, my grandfather, was out working on the farm they had owned, and my father went to retrieve a shovel for him. My father was around four years old at the time. Apparently, ten minutes later, my father still wasn't back with the shovel, so my grandfather went into the shed where the tools were stored, and saw my father trying to get the heavy shovel off of the hook on the wall. He was jumping up and down, trying to reach the handle of it.
Let's just say, my grandfather ended up getting the shovel down, but my father was so proud that he got to carry it to the work site where my grandfather was planting.
Zane is alright. He heard about my father, and came over about twenty minutes after the other two boys left. My mother cried as soon as he arrived, making Jane and Eleanor begin crying again. He ended up going into my room and throwing my plush basketball into the hoop on the back of my door.
He took the ball home with him that night.
