Don't Let Me Go

There will always be that first true love. The one that wasn't easy, that didn't always go how you'd like. But despite all of the problems, all of the conflict, there was still a yearning desire to be with them. To touch them, to hold them, to have them. This is the one that taught you all you ever needed to know about love. It taught you how to fight through all of the hardship and hold on to the goodness. It's the one that even to this day, you wish you still had. The one you know you will never have again.

***

"It's not fair!" These three short words fired out of the eighteen year old's mouth like a pistol. Narrowed green eyes were fixed on the small slender woman like she was a target.

"Come on Will, it's not that bad." Mary Tully's tone was not one that offered kind, reassuring words to her son.

"It so is! How can you send me away, Ma? How? To a fucking farm of all places!" Will questioned his mother quite aggressively. He wasn't one for swearing in front of his older peers, let alone his parent, but right now he was so infuriated he just couldn't care less.

His mother, who had previously had her back turned to him as she scrubbed away at dirty dishes had spun around, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, giving her son what he thought to be some sort of death stare. "William Drew Tully will you mind your language!" She barked back, her throat getting sore already. She paused for a moment, her eyes locked to her son's who stood still, her words seemed to have startled him. "I'm not sending you away. I'm sending you to a farm in the country, away from the city. It will be safe there. Safe from this God awful war."

Will looked at his mother, breathing slightly faster than normal. He looked at the floor, sighing softly. "I'm sorry, Ma. It's just, I don't see why I have to go there and you don't."

"I'm staying here to look after injured soldiers. I'm a nurse, you know that." Mary replied, her voice was softer this time as she turned to continue the washing up.

Will nodded his head. "Yeah I know." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper this time. He hated having to say good bye, he had already said it to his father. Both of his parents were taking part in the war, his mother a nurse and his father as a pilot. Despite Will being eighteen years old, legally eligible and persistently encouraged to sign up, his mother wouldn't let him. He was her only son and there was no way she was going to lose him because of some pointless fight. She couldn't talk her husband out of it but she could definitely talk her son out of it.

A few days prior to this one, the eighteen year old brown-haired boy from London had packed several bags for his train ride to Ireland. Ireland was less likely to be bombed so it seemed smart that he went there, at least this was his mother's logic.

This whole argument had kicked off because today was the day he made his journey to the bright town of Mullingar. Luckily for Will, his home was only a few short minutes away from the train station. Every time a train pulled in he could hear the whistle from his bedroom. All he had to do was wait for that sound. That high-pitched irritating sound that woke him several times in his sleep every single night.

Just as Will was about to make another objection, the very thing he dreaded happened. "Train's here." He muttered softly, giving up in his fight. He took a step towards his mother and planted a small gentle kiss to her cheek. She responded by turning around and wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace, not even bothering to dry her hands first. "Come on, Ma. You're making my back wet." He spoke softly, his voice already starting to shake.

Mary buried her face in to her son's shoulder. At eighteen years old he was nearly a man, already taller than she was. She pulled away and in an attempt to stop herself from crying she smiled and kissed Will's forehead. "Be brave my son." Her words were tender, filled with as much love as a mother could.

Will nodded. As his eyes met hers for a final time for God knows how long, he felt a lump well up in his throat. He swallowed hard. "I will, Ma." And with that, he turned and grabbed his bags from the floor beside the front door. He threw them over his shoulder and without turning back, he left. He couldn't face looking at her again, her teary, gentle expression would just make him break down. He didn't want anyone to see him cry today.

He stood on the door step before taking a deep breath and making his way up to the station. With each step he took, the desire to turn around and run back in to his mother's arms grew ever more wistful.