He smiled as he pulled into the driveway to his house, music still blaring. He smiled, parked, turned off his truck and stepped back out into the cool October air. "I haven't been here in almost a year..." He said softly to himself. Gabby slid out through his side and stood next to him while her sister walked around the other side. His parents and the Mikey, Robbie and Adam all pulled in moments later. "You two ready for Monday?" He said softly, looking at them as they gave him an uneasy nod, so he took it as a yes. He followed his mom inside, smiling as his German Shepard, Mac, jumped up onto his chest, softly licking his face. He wrapped his arms around the large dog, kissing his head as he nuzzled him. "Hey bud. You missed me too didn't ya? Huh?" The dog yapped in response. Mac jumped down so he slowly walked into the kitchen. He remembered his birthday was two Mondays ago. He smiled and trotted up the stairs to his room with a smile. He opened his closet and looked at a large safe in the middle of it. "Hey ma! What's in this?!" He said, looking at his mom, dad and everyone else standing behind him. "Open it." His dad said with a smile. He slowly opened the safe. Inside was a ton of things. Airsoft gear, three rifles and a handgun with more gear. He smiled. "Y'all actually remembered? Oh my god.. Guys." He started to tear up and he smiled, wiping his face. "Thank you guys..." He smiled and hugged them all, besides his little sister, he just kissed her forehead. "Cmon. Let's go down stairs and celebrate." His mom said, leading them all down stairs.
A few good hours passed. They laughed, ate food, told stories and caught up. It was about 10 o'clock when Adam and the others left, but Gabby and Gracie remained. "Okay. How did y'all get away with staying here this long?" He asked, swallowing his food. "What do you mean?" Gabby asked. "Your family all hate me. You're mom and dad are very strict. So how?" He silently looked down, waiting for them to answer but they never did. The whole world faded to black as he shot up in his cott, M-16 clutched to his chest. He wasn't wearing a shirt but he had on his deserts and his combat boots, dogtags around his neck. "Son of a bitch. Fucking mind. I just want to go home..."
YOU ARE READING
The Good Marine
FantasyHis life was simple and easy until he joined the US Marine Corps at age 16, a draft for the war in Afghanistan. Now he was seventeen, a Corporal for his duties in combat and he had officially earned the Scout Sniper tab. It was his first day back an...
