another double update who am i
"Are you alright?" Cat asks Calum, who had an obvious bruise on his face, and he just shrugged.
"Yeah," he says, "Believe me, I've had it so much worse than that."
Realization dawned on me that he probably has been in horrible horrible situations. I can't even imagine what he's been through.
Cat looks down, before she nods, "I'm just going to go up to my room, I'm really tired. I'll be back down later."
We don't argue with her as she goes upstairs, her bedroom door closing.
Ashton left right after the whole thing happened, saying he was going to the rink again. I was starting to worry about him. He is always there, and I'm afraid he's going to start to hate the sport.
Luke went up to shower, mostly because he probably felt awkward, so it was just Calum and I.
I guess Michael just didn't want to come, which also upset me.
"Calum, can I talk to you?" I ask. I haven't truly spoken to Calum at all since he got here.
"Sure," he says, and we both go to the couches in the living room.
"How are you doing?" I ask him, before realizing it was probably dumb.
"Alright," he laughs and I shake my head, "You know what I mean. How's the transition?"
We rarely talk about his days in Iraq, actually we really never do.
"Honestly?" He says, "It's hard as fuck. Everything is so different."
I stay silent as he shifts in his seat, "And sometimes, I have these-these nightmares," he looks down, pointing to his head, "Some are worse than others, but I always get this one where I just wake up sweating and screaming. I can't shake it."
I'm taken back that he's coming out with this so openly, but it's been bottled in and I think he just needs to let it out.
"It's more of a memory, I have flashbacks of it when I'm awake too,l he says, rubbing his hands together, "I was in one of the trucks, going back to base. I remember it vividly, I was thanking God once again that I was still alive, and as I thought to myself, 'another day done', my truck stopped," he runs his hands over his shaven head, "I was confused, but my best friend that I made while out there, Greg, said that there was another one of our trucks in the middle of the road. So we jumped out, and slowly made our way over to it."
My heart starts to beat a little faster as he continues his story, "When we looked inside, four men were dead. I knew three of them, one was a dad of four. Four little girls that were never going to see their dad again," he looks up at me with tears in his eyes, and my heart breaks.
"Then there was an explosion and I was blown off my feet. I had to of flown at least 20 feet back. I landed on my side and I laid there for a second and prayed nothing in me broke," he shakes his head, "But then I got up after a few seconds and ran over towards the truck."
His eyes fill with tears and my heart actually breaks, I've never seen Calum so vulnerable or broken, "Greg was laying there, his arm had been literally torn off and he was shaking and bleeding out everywhere. There was so much blood, I didn't even know a person had that much."
"Everyone else was dead, the people in my truck I mean, so I picked up Greg, because I couldn't just leave him there and put him in the truck next to me and I just drove. I wasn't experienced in driving it, but I had to get him back to the camp."
He rubs his eyes, "I was trying to get him to stay awake- to keep talking, you know? I was in shock, but I had to keep going. He was making all these noises and I was trying to talk to him like nothing was wrong."
"But then he told me something. It took a lot out of him, but he grabbed my arm that was gripping onto the steering wheel with his only arm, and said 'There's a letter under my pillow, mail it to her, I love her.'"
"I knew who he was talking about," he shakes his head, "It was his best friend, he loved her a lot. He told me one night when we were both up from being paranoid."
He looks back up at me as tears fall from his eyes, "He died, Grace. His arm went limp and he died, right there in the truck. I tried to get him to wake up, I really fucking tried. He was the closest person I had."
"As soon as we got back, as I got back I guess, the trauma surgeons came running to him, but we all knew it was too late. I went straight to our tent and stripped off my gear, and looked under his pillow," he says, "I sat on his bed and read it. It was to her, her name was Leslie. He wrote it to her in case he did die, it was saying that he was sorry he never told her how he felt and that he regretted to the day he died. It was the most heartbreaking thing I've ever read."
"I think about him all the time," Calum says, "He was my brother out there."
I go over and sit next to him, pulling him into my side as cried, his whole body shaking.
"It won't get out of my head," he says, "None of it will get out of my head. I can't think, I can't see a fucking ceiling fan without imaging a bomber helicopter."
"I try so hard to forget, to live my life, but I can't. I can't knowing that people are dying out there and I'm not helping them."
My heart slows to early a stop, "I have to go back, Grace."
"Calum," I say softly, "You just got back, you need to fix yourself first."
"I don't need to fix myself," he says, sitting up, "I need to help them, they need my help."
"Please just wait a little bit," I beg, "Just a little, stay with us, take some time for yourself, please."
Calum stays silent, so this time I continue, "We love you, Cal. I worried about you every single day. I prayed every day, hell I even cried. And so did Cat. We love you so much."
He pulls me into a hug, and a tear falls from my eye, "I love you guys."
A small smile twitches on my face, remembering what Calum had said so many times two years back.
I don't love anybody.
