Only For You

XXXIX) Marion: Escape

I thought again about ditching the military, but immediately knew that would just get me killed. That was only if I got caught. The moment my heart throbbed in my chest was the moment I knew I had some life left. The blood that flowed through my veins immediately turned to liquid adrenaline. "I'm on the right!" I yelled at Buck next to me. He was a tall guy with a black tint to his eyes. "I got him, Lynx!" He returned back to his leader position ahead of me. "Right, Lynx." Officer Dickson said.

As I began to lead off, away from the head position, I was able to make my way through the east side. The plane began to shake when wakes of turbulence hit through the air. Bombs and missles hit planes out of the sky like how tennis rackets hit tennis balls. Planes fell out of the sky like hail falling out of the clouds above. It felt deep, dark, and maybe very depressing. Every second seemed like a minute, one minute seemed like an hour, and one hour seemed like eternity. My eyes quickly glanced as a plane section nearly hit my cockpit window. I quickly reacted in time to avoid the plane from hitting my window. I let out a huge sigh as I recollected my thoughts. This was it...

Back when I lived in Honolulu while my father worked there I couldn't help but feel that connection with the earth. I was able to figure out who I was as a human being. Maybe this 'aha' moment was something that had to happen. Today I still remember making my final decision to be a pilot, now here I am. This all paid off definitely. Most people called me out of my mind. They hated me because of my life decision, but those were the ones who just fueled my passion even more. Here I am today, fighting in the war.

Enough with the past. How am I supposed to get out? Give up. That was always the answer, an answer I did not want to submit to. I landed my plane quickly on the runway marked with the heading indicator number 26, and it was on the right side. This runway was really torn up and battered. That meant it did not matter how much I tried there was no way of making a butter landing. My plane bounced around and bumped into the runway below. I was done, done with it all. Maybe this time I needed to recollect my thoughts like a man. Maybe this time I need to forget - forget him, forget Nick. He is the love of my life, so how could I forget? I couldn't. Maybe this is a sign that I deserve better because Nick... I hate him.

Oh how writing that last sentence hurt me, it hurt my soul so badly. I really do not hate him or despise him, I just need a way to somehow forget, forget him. I want his memory, his little hugs, his scent gone from my mind. I had to let him go finally. I committed myself to focusing on the war. As my arms clenched the stick I could not gain effective control. Before I knew it the plane was falling from the sky. This was not a stall or anything to that extent, but rather it was a bullet that hit my right wing. After so I attempted to pull up, but to no avail... nothing. I pushed and pushed, but nothing was happening. My mind immediately remembered the last time I was able to attend church. That was about three months ago. The power of prayer makes anything happen. I said a short and sweet prayer for help in my head while my plane continued to plummet.

The heavy breaths, the anxiety, the pain, and even the invisible daggers that were being thrown into my soul. Right before my plane hit ground I was able to pull up on the stick and find that perfect balance. I saved my life, no, God saved my life. As soon as I moved my plane into the perfect position for landing I was able to soon discover that they would absolutely not give me permission to land at all. I tried so hard to explain why I needed to land, but they were not keen on any of my reasons as to why. The battle in the sky continued to rage on. I was wearing my headset only imagining the havoc outside. I couldn't get the images out of my head -they were all permeated within. How do people live like this? I knew that people hated me, so that was my motivation to keep me flying.

After several unsuccessful attempts on anything and pretending to fight I finally shot down my first aircraft. After one it became two, and after two it became four, and after four it became sixteen. Eight of which I hit head on with bullets. The other eight were wing clips. I felt so bad, my heart ached more than anyone could ever know. The feeling was heavy as my set of eyes watched the planes explode and fall from the skies. I kept a tally of my shoot downs of enemy targets on a piece of paper that was held by my kneeboard. The fingers on my hand shook each time I hurried to make a mark. My eyes filled with tears. These were deep tears that really stained my cheeks. I was choked up, sad, burdened, and so forth. This truly seemed never ending. I prayed that tomorrow would be kinder, but I seemed to be waning in faith. Nicholas my love, my cute pilot captain, please I need help. What should I do? I tried so hard to ask him what to do, but nothing happened. The pilots were communicating about the shoot downs. I didn't want to continue, but I knew I had to. This was absolutely forced, not an option.

For a split second I shut my eyes and felt the adrenaline travel through my veins. I'm 18 and I'm killing people in war? What is this? When I opened them back up my aircraft was surrounded with black smoke. It filled the air and filled the cockpit seemingly so effortlessly. I had a hard time breathing. My beating heart felt as if it was going to pop out of my chest. Each beat kept a consistent one, two, three, four beat. I could actually count to the beat of my heart as each second passed by. My oximeter in the aircraft was reading normal, but I still felt like I was getting deprived. Each gauge on the cockpit dash seemingly worked very well. There was no way of telling any imperfection in the plane's system. It appeared as if time was just taking a toll on my mental health and it appeared that shooting was hitting my emotions harder than anything ever had, at least since Nick was taken from me. Oh how I miss him.