Live Free or Die Hard

Live free or die hard... momma used to tell me and Charlie that when we were growing up. Live free or die hard... honestly, that is the first thing I truly remember being told, its embedded in all my memories, hanging on the walls of my childhood house, right next to daddy's ashes. Live free or die hard... the last thing my momma said to us before being sentenced to death by the courts for four counts of felony murder with a deadly weapon, and felony child abuse. Live free or die hard... a motto I refuse to forget about, a motto I will live by until I die.

"Havoc! Gear up! We move out in 10 minutes" my bunkmate, Rolings, called thorough the open door to our hut. Call sign "Havoc" after I caused a havoc on accident in the barracks in basic training. Three months in country and they quite haven't mastered the art of coming in and telling me things yet, but we are getting there. I started to get geared up, my spare ammo and hidden knife going into their correct spots. Double checking my vest was on correctly, my hair was tied up properly and out of the way. If only momma could see me now, she would have been both so proud of me as a person but hated what I have become.

Right after momma was arrested, I was 6 and Charlie was 9, daddy's momma took us in and raised us. When momma was sentenced to death, gran was awarded sole custody of Charlie and myself. I was 8 when momma was put to death, I honestly don't really remember too many good things about her.

I remember being 6 in court, as momma faced the judge and jury claiming she was innocent, despite there being proof. I remember Charlie having to testify against momma and her threatening him in court, saying she had no son and that he was dead to her. I remember sitting in the witness box, telling the jury how momma had hurt me and Charlie. I remember gran getting us ice cream afterwards telling us we were brave, and that she was sooo proud of us. I remember her being found guilty to all charges and having to be dragged out of the courthouse, saying she would escape and kill Charlie and me.

Charlie was the golden child; he was perfect in every way. Straight "A" s, captain of his soccer team, leader of his boy scout troop, black belt in karate, he worked two jobs on top of going to school, and he even got multiple scholarships to major universities. He was a child any parent would be proud to have, and he wasn't too bad looking. His blonde hair and green eyes drove all the girl's crazy growing up in high school, but back then... he was too focused on helping gram raise me and making sure I got what I needed to be happy.

I however was the exact opposite. I struggled in school and ended up with a tutor who really helped me, I wasn't into sports until high school basketball, I was not a scout, in fact I was one of the kids who would throw snowballs at them in the winter. I did however end up getting a scholarship for a nice university, but I almost flunked out of my senior year, so they ended up pulling it. With my short brown hair and brown eyes, I wasn't too much of a catch, especially after I came out as gay in my sophomore year, and then as nonbinary in my junior year. Grams was really accepting and even helped me legally change my name when I was 16. Heck, she even picked out my name.

Gram never wanted us to know growing up that she couldn't truly afford both of us, that's why Charlie worked so much. We would hear her in the kitchen after we were supposed to go to bed on the phone with the banks, credit card companies, and hospitals begging for extensions on past due bills to be able to keep the house. Gram would have done anything to make sure Charlie and I were taken care of, she at 74, was still working full time as a kindergarten teacher.

Charlie finished high school a year early when I was 14 and he went to the local community college to be able to stay home and help, I could always tell that made him sad, but he did end up meeting his wife there, so it wasn't all for a waste. He married Jules when he turned 19 and they had a son, Cody, less than a year later. When he graduated college, I was 16 and had been working for a while up until this point, he sat me down and we talked for hours and hours about what we needed to do to help gram. He wanted to enlist into the Marines, but he wanted to make sure I was taken care of, and so was grams. I could really tell he wanted to do it, so I gave him my blessing and he enlisted a year later. I regret that decision. Six months into him being a Marine, he was deployed and killed in a suicide bombing.