Chapter 1

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I turned the hot water off in the shower, pulling the towel from the rack and drying myself off. I stepped out onto the cool tile floor and walked over to the sink where my clothes lay. I took my underwear, slipping them on along with my green cargo shorts. I took my military tags and slid them over my head. I took them in my hand, the light glistening off of their silver engravings. Seth E. Peterson, it said, along with my social security number, my blood type, B+ and my religion, Christian. I looked into the still fogged mirror at the scar on my left shoulder. I touched it, seeming almost to go back in time.

*two years ago*

Gunshots blazed past the sandbag barrier as I peeked around it, trying to get sight of the mini gunner in the sand bank.

"You see him?" A man said.

"No, Daniel, I can't get a good look because he is shooting aimlessly!" I screamed over the sound of gunshots. We had been in the same platoon since basic training. Dark clouds formed quickly over the war sight. Daniel had brown eyes and short brown hair, he was built to be pretty big, he always seemed to have a smile on his face. I looked over at him as he opened a Hershey's chocolate bar. He looked at me as he slid a piece into his mouth.

"What?!? Haven't eaten anything since lunch!" He said, smiling.

"Jesus Christ man! Even in the war, we can't stop your fat ass from eating!" I screamed, chuckling to myself. It felt as if the war was gone, but I knew it wasn't as another bullet hit the sand bank in front of me.

"Want me to pop a smoke?" He asked me.

"Yeah, I'll move across the way and over to that other barrier." I said, pointing at a sandbag barrier about 30 feet away.

"That's a pretty far stretch, you sure you can make it?" Daniel asked, sliding another block of Chocolate into his mouth.

"Yeah, cover me." I said, crouching down on my knees as if I were in a track race. I gripped my M14 in my hands firmly.

This is it, I either make it, or I die...

"Smoke's out! Go! Go! Go!" Daniel said, peeking over the side of the barrier. I pressed hard into the sand, running out into the middle of the line of fire. Everything around me seemed to slow. The click of Daniels gun behind me, providing cover fire. The sound of the sand trickling under my boots. Then it hit me. Right in the shoulder, I fell into the sand, gripping my shoulder hard as the warm liquid oozed out. "Seth!"

My mind began to slur as the world around me became foggy. Then I felt my body being lifted off the sand, drifting further away from reality.

"I got you!" Daniel said, his voice, echoing in my skull. "Everything is going to be alright!" He screamed reassuringly, placing my head in his lap. I looked into his brown eyes, my vision blurring in and out. A man came over, saying something to Daniel, but I couldn't decipher what he was saying. They talked for a matter of minutes, then Daniel looked down at me. "Seth, Seth, Seth!"

*present day*

"Seth! Honey you okay?" My mother said outside the bathroom door. I realized I was still in the bathroom, the steam had cleared away from the mirror, showing my short brown hair, my clean shaved face, and brown eyes that seemed to have tears appearing. I wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm great, mom! I'll be out in a minute!" I said, slipping on my Grey Nike T-Shirt. I grabbed Daniels military tags of the sink and slipped them into my pocket, leaving the bathroom. I went out into the green hallway and down the wooden stairway into the kitchen where everyone was getting set up for lunch.

"What took so long?" My dad asked, as he cut the turkey into slices.

"Nothing, just needed a moment." I said, sitting in the last chair on the left of the table. The kitchen was a typical connection to the living room, consisting of a large carpet with flowery textures on the rug, a wooden glass cabinet with plates and wine glasses all in their specific shelves. My brother who was now 17 sat next to me, he had long brown hair, and was starting to grow a beard. I turned to my dad, who put the turkey in the middle of the table and sat down on the end of the table. My mom sat at the other end.

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