Military Families

Red, White, and Blue

With each explosion a shock ran through my body. My fists clenched with every flash. Shouts and yells could be heard in between the booms. Panic rushed through my body and even with the heat of summer, I felt frozen cold. Each nerve was filled with unpleasant prickles.

This is too much like the last time. Kids running, women holding their babies close, men fighting. I knew my breath was ragged. I couldn't move from my spot as I saw my comrade fall, clutching his chest. I wanted to run to him, but my feet wouldn't let me. What was I supposed to do? I had to get him out of the line of fire. I heard shrieks of women and children as another explosion went off. All I could think of was my wife our son and our unborn baby girl. My son screaming for me to help him.

A new set of explosions went off. One after another. It was rapid fire. I started to shake, hoping to survive the night. I prayed to God I would survive the night.

"Daddy!" My son! I looked wildly around for my precious boy." Aren't the fireworks awesome?!"

I blinked and looked around. I'm still in the destroyed Iraqi city but something was different. Instead of piles of rubble, I saw picnic tables. Instead of scared women holding their babies, I saw laughing women rocking their sleeping babies. Instead of seeing my comrade on the ground clutching his chest, I saw him clutching a football and smiling. Instead of hearing screams of terror, I heard screams of excitement. My son was crawling onto my lap holding a glow stick in his sticky hands.

"What's wrong daddy?" He asked as I moved my shaking hands to hold him close. My wife looked over at me rubbing her swollen belly. With one look, she knew what was happening, She whispered something to her friends and came over to us.

"Why don't we go home?" She patted Carlos' head and then kissed my cheek. "My feet are killing me anyways."

I nodded hesitantly and stood up with Carlos in my arms. He wanted to say goodnight to his grandma and grandpa so I let him down.

"I'm sorry." I said quietly, grabbing the lawn chair.

"Peter." Claire took my hand. "Its ok. You don't have to be sorry."

"Every fourth we repeat this and every year I feel terrible for it." I said looking at my beautiful wife.

"Its ok babe. It's not your fault and it never will be." She smiled at me and hugged me. We walked to our car with Carlos running ahead of us.

PSTD: infinity

Me: 0

With the Fourth of July being this Saturday and firework celebrations being more frequent, I know its tough for those who have served. My brother has yet to watch a fireworks display without being tense or just going inside the house. Its not his fault nor is it anyone else's fault. Its a price paid for serving in the military and fighting for our freedom. I want to thank any military member reading this collection of shorts. Without your sacrifice, I would not be able to post any of this.

Disclaimer: I do not know what a veteran goes through when PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) acts up. I have a small form of it from a car accident so I based what Peter was feeling off of what I feel when I think about car crashes. Also, I don't know how a veteran would act during one of these moments so I do not know how to help them calm down so I DO NOT suggest you try calming them down unless you ABSOLUTELY KNOW how to do it.

Have a good and safe Fourth of July and Happy Birthday America!!!!

-Storywriter19