Glimpses Of War

Martyred(Female POV)

*Back to present*

It had been 2 weeks since Jay had left for his duty. He had a posting and was deployed as per the area, which was, unfortunately, a high-risk location. 

Of course, he'd done this several times and got out okay but I'd still be tensed every time. One time he'd come home with half his body covered in bandages and we'd been informed that he'd taken 5 bullets to his body and that he was lucky to still be alive. I didn't let him go back to war for quite a while after that and I guess having his parents on my side helped for sure. 

I was a famous writer by then and almost the whole country knew of me. Jay made me promise not to reveal that he was my boyfriend or that he was working in the army. He wanted to fight without any special attention.               

As always.

Yet this time it felt different. 2 weeks ago, he'd just gotten back from work and I was meeting him after so long, but not a day later, he was called back on an emergency basis. 

2 weeks I lived in worry about if he'd be alright. He had his phone and I'd check up on him as much as possible but it'd been three days since he hadn't texted back. That was making me worry even more.

Two weeks one day.

Two weeks two days.

Still nothing.

Two weeks three days.

Two weeks four days.

I'd get chills down my spine and goosebumps would randomly pop out on my body.

Two weeks five days.

I started waking up with terrifying nightmares.

Two weeks six days. 

That's when the jeeps showed up at his parent's house. I got the first call after they'd found out. At least after they were able to calm themselves down. As much as they possibly could, that is; barely enough to make a phone call.

The love of my life had been shot to death; a bullet to the head, 3 in the torso, and 2 in his leg. The body was far too bad to even look at.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't WANT to believe it. All I wished for was the boy who I'd once hated and always loved to come back. Without him, I'd be nothing. I didn't believe it until I reached his parent's house. I wouldn't give up hope so easily. Not until the very end.

I booked a flight and traveled there, all the way begging god or some....any miraculous power to give him back to me. That I would prefer being taken instead.

I had no idea why but a part of my heart was in denial of his death, while the other knew the bitter truth the rest didn't want to believe.

I rushed to the house as fast as possible, dropping my things right outside the corridor into the house as I saw what was inside.

There was a wooden box labelled head at one end. His parents sat at a side, crying helplessly. People stood by silently while others got rallies out for his sacrifice to be praised. 

I still couldn't believe it, even though the part inside me that did was screaming to come out.

I walked over to the box where his body lay covered with a white blanket. I sat down near the box and reached my hand to remove the blanket so I could see his face. No one stopped me, though some looked at me in fear, while others in sympathy.

I removed the blanket and as soon as I saw him, I couldn't breathe.

His skin had been torn apart so badly with the bullets that had been embedded in his head that he was unrecognizable. They'd tried to clean the wounds as best as they could but this, this was irreversible.

What gave him away was that expression on his face that I was so used to. He looked so peaceful, the same way he looked when he fell asleep at my house the first time. 

Everything came crashing down on me. My voice had gone cold, but now, as I opened my mouth, a deafening scream rang out. My body dropped to the floor and suddenly I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I wailed, sobbing in pain, my hand brushing his cheek as my tears dropped onto the white blanket.

No one could find the power to console me other than his parents who were feeling the same. No one, except his commanding officer, as it turned out so.

"Miss Y/N, I'm sorry for your loss", he said, and I gave no reaction, feeling as if he was another sympathiser; yet he continued, "I was his commanding officer and this was what we'd found in his belongings after he was martyred." Pulling out a small box from his pocket, he gave it to me. Along with it was a note.

I wanted to die only to reunite with him again. Yet I regained control of myself enough to open the note and read the words without losing consciousness.

"Dear Y/N,

I kept this ready for if something shall happen to me. If it doesn't, you wouldn't even know about this, but if you're reading this, listen to me. I love you. I know you must be feeling like you will never recover but trust me, you will. Find a better life, live through it, even if I couldn't do it with you. Do it for me. Do it for us and we shall meet in another life, my love.  All other lives, but unfortunately, not this one.

I love you so much.

Always Yours,

-J."

My heart shattered all over again as I opened the box. Inside the velvet red box was a ring still shining like his eyes once had. He was gone but this wasn't. Why?

*Some time after*

Jay was awarded the highest gallantry award in our country, though it didn't matter anymore. I looked at the television; his parents were being honoured with his gallantry award medallion, merely even a thing to me as the price he paid for it. My eyes were still, everything feeling pointless. This was happening live and I'd been asked to come as well, but no one could get me to talk.

News spread that he was my fiancé and his death was all over the media for weeks on end. All while I sat there, my mind numb, thinking about nothing but him.

Him and how I'd never answered him that day on the train. The way I'd kissed him and he'd kissed me back. The silence after it happened. Silence that was once beautiful.

Now, it was torture.