Sequel: Like a Damaged Nerve ›
The Sailor and the Hawk
Are You Happy?
Ky had invited me over to her and Jon's apartment for dinner the next night. I thought it was a little weird, considering Ky never liked to do things last minute. She plans down to the very millisecond so for to call me and asked that morning, it was worrying. But I still went and now I was outside their door, knocking a rhythm that was sure to annoy her. Jon opened the door with a little grin, letting me right in.
“Where's Kylee?” I asked as he shut and locked the door. He just went back into the kitchen, Ky coming down from the bedroom not a second later. There was a strange vibe. I wondered if they had gotten into a fight.
“Hey, sit down, dinner's just about ready.” Ky said, smiling a little as she went into the kitchen to help Jon finish. They brought the food over and we all ate and talked quietly. Ky asked me about my night with Patrick but nothing else. She seemed tense and fidgety, same as Jon. I looked between the two of them, raising an eyebrow at them. Eventually, Ky let out a long sigh and looked over at me.
“I want you to talk about Afghanistan.” Ky said, looking at me. I heard Jon let out a groan and rub his face, sending Kylee a look. I sent her a similar look.
“Why? I told you, nothing really happened.” I said, making fists and digging my nails into my palms. She never let up with this since I got home, I swear, she wanted to psychoanalyze me.
“Come on, I'm your sister! I know something happened that you're not telling me!” she pushed. I was beyond annoyed with her, as she never stops asking about this. I finally slammed my fists down on the table, sending her a dark look.
“You really want to know what happened!?” I snapped. Ky shut her mouth and looked over at Jon carefully. I pulled off my sweater, standing in just a tank top and showed her the bullet wound, as well as the knife marks on my stomach and back. The slash marks from a knife fight that I was lucky to have won. “Shit happened, Kylee!” I snapped, pulling my shirt down. I let out a long, sharp breath before starting into my last week there.
There was an attack. The small Taliban militia had found our base camp. The SEAL team practically lead them right to it. There was an explosion, a rocket propelled grenade. Then gunfire, so loud and so much smoke, dust and the stench of blood. It was suffocating. I was a SEAL get shot in the abdomen. I ran over to help him when a militant grabbed me and threw me. We struggled and fought, he shot me and then pulled out a dagger, slashing at me. I stabbed him in the foot and then he was shot. I didn't see who shot him, but someone did and fell on me, dead. I screamed so much, my vocal cords were raw. I saved the SEALS life and was then airlifted out, as I was bleeding all over while I tried to help others who were injured. I even fought my fellow corpsmen, who were trying to get me on the helicopter. I saved four peoples lives. They sent me home because I was injured.
Kylee had tears spilling down her face once I stopped. My heart was racing, like I was on the verge of a panic attack. Jon had moved over to her and held onto her. I didn't even notice him move. I was so blinded with rage and anger over it all. Since being home, all I had been asked was if I was okay. I wasn't okay. I was a fucking wreck, dragging my war torn body through each day, lying to keep my career and knowing damn well, that they could send me back at the drop of a hat. I had considered retiring, bowing out gracefully with a honorable discharge. But what would I do once I was out, officially a civilian again?
“Are you happy, Ky? You finally got your fucking answer.” I snapped, grabbing my sweater and throwing it on before grabbing my bag and leaving, slamming the door harshly.
I drove around the city for a while, fuming with anger. I had considered going to Patrick's but decided against it. Instead, I went right back to base and straight to my barracks, slamming the door shut and collapsing on the bed before pulling out my laptop and looking up VA benefits. Maybe retiring would be the best.
“Where's Kylee?” I asked as he shut and locked the door. He just went back into the kitchen, Ky coming down from the bedroom not a second later. There was a strange vibe. I wondered if they had gotten into a fight.
“Hey, sit down, dinner's just about ready.” Ky said, smiling a little as she went into the kitchen to help Jon finish. They brought the food over and we all ate and talked quietly. Ky asked me about my night with Patrick but nothing else. She seemed tense and fidgety, same as Jon. I looked between the two of them, raising an eyebrow at them. Eventually, Ky let out a long sigh and looked over at me.
“I want you to talk about Afghanistan.” Ky said, looking at me. I heard Jon let out a groan and rub his face, sending Kylee a look. I sent her a similar look.
“Why? I told you, nothing really happened.” I said, making fists and digging my nails into my palms. She never let up with this since I got home, I swear, she wanted to psychoanalyze me.
“Come on, I'm your sister! I know something happened that you're not telling me!” she pushed. I was beyond annoyed with her, as she never stops asking about this. I finally slammed my fists down on the table, sending her a dark look.
“You really want to know what happened!?” I snapped. Ky shut her mouth and looked over at Jon carefully. I pulled off my sweater, standing in just a tank top and showed her the bullet wound, as well as the knife marks on my stomach and back. The slash marks from a knife fight that I was lucky to have won. “Shit happened, Kylee!” I snapped, pulling my shirt down. I let out a long, sharp breath before starting into my last week there.
There was an attack. The small Taliban militia had found our base camp. The SEAL team practically lead them right to it. There was an explosion, a rocket propelled grenade. Then gunfire, so loud and so much smoke, dust and the stench of blood. It was suffocating. I was a SEAL get shot in the abdomen. I ran over to help him when a militant grabbed me and threw me. We struggled and fought, he shot me and then pulled out a dagger, slashing at me. I stabbed him in the foot and then he was shot. I didn't see who shot him, but someone did and fell on me, dead. I screamed so much, my vocal cords were raw. I saved the SEALS life and was then airlifted out, as I was bleeding all over while I tried to help others who were injured. I even fought my fellow corpsmen, who were trying to get me on the helicopter. I saved four peoples lives. They sent me home because I was injured.
Kylee had tears spilling down her face once I stopped. My heart was racing, like I was on the verge of a panic attack. Jon had moved over to her and held onto her. I didn't even notice him move. I was so blinded with rage and anger over it all. Since being home, all I had been asked was if I was okay. I wasn't okay. I was a fucking wreck, dragging my war torn body through each day, lying to keep my career and knowing damn well, that they could send me back at the drop of a hat. I had considered retiring, bowing out gracefully with a honorable discharge. But what would I do once I was out, officially a civilian again?
“Are you happy, Ky? You finally got your fucking answer.” I snapped, grabbing my sweater and throwing it on before grabbing my bag and leaving, slamming the door harshly.
I drove around the city for a while, fuming with anger. I had considered going to Patrick's but decided against it. Instead, I went right back to base and straight to my barracks, slamming the door shut and collapsing on the bed before pulling out my laptop and looking up VA benefits. Maybe retiring would be the best.