15 Letters

Chapter 2 (Letter)

August 30, 2020

Dear Etsuko Kato,

Sometimes, you can never feel how slow time travels, until you've locked yourself in a dark room, without a clock to count on. Without a face to look at. Without a voice to listen to.

Until then, life is only 24 hours a day. No more, no less. It's just a cup to fill. A vial of living, for every day of existence. And at the end of the day, you get to sip this holy water, only to continue to the next day. And days without hydration, the soul crumbles to dust, withered of its living, but keeping its life. At the brink of living death.

That's what I want to send home to you, a reason to live. A reason to live in the moment, for the moment, and with the moment. And life will return its deed. Someday, joy will come back, but you just have to wait for him. Wait for him to lighten other people. Wait for him to send off evil, away from humanity. Just wait, and he will come back to love you even more. To give you more life. To lend you a little of his water of existence.

As for me, it's been 38 days since my departure, and I think I forgot about our last conversation. Something about whales, I think. How they know where to go? Why do they travel in pods? Why are they so peaceful? Or was it something else? Maybe it was about humans. Or it could've been about my Force Recon unit. Maybe my own self.

I've lost much of my multi-tasking abilities, and it's becoming harder and harder to concentrate on one thing. Like, for example, I was just distracted by a picture of us. Azusa Canyon. Hiking on paved trail. Crumbing old rocks into smaller grains. Me, suspended on lanky stilts, lifting a load of fifty pounds on my back, preparing for future deployment. It was only fifty-six days old, but tears formed around edges.

So far, the unit has split into 6-man squads. I'm part of the Sniper section of 1st Squad. I have James Gabra as my Scout. The fireteam has Walter Gutierrez, Greg Patel, Albert Rossi, and Ethan Bennett. All they are really doing is raiding buildings with suspicious activity. Nothing else has happened, except death. One. Three. Eight. Fifteen. Death is such a miniscule event now. And killing is only a hobby. Not a sport, because that would be hunting.

I guess we've been divided between leadership right now. Ethan is acting like a 5 year old giving commands. And to be honest, I am only a minute older than he is. We're all a bunch of sleep deprived minutemen. We're all minute-and-a-second-men, now. Too slow for military use.

Gee, all the things I ever wanted to do--we've already done that. All the things I ever wanted to say--I've spilt it all. But, I still want to go back. Maybe do it all again. That's how much I love you.

With love,  

Will Zhang