September 27, 2020
I've been thinking a lot lately. Not that I haven't pondered about life before. It's just that minutes of thought are now hours. Every single day, everywhere I go, and whatever situation approaches, it's always crawling out from behind the closet mirror, and interrupting my life process. And that thought revolves around no one other than you. It's not your face, your mysterious eyes, or your surprisingly addictive laughter. It's just your presence. Your proximity to my own.
I don't know if you can sense the nervousness and anxiety in my written voice. And I think you won't be able to sense the depression that is washing over me either--because darkness doesn't travel through mail. But I know, in my heart, that you can't see the fear that tints my eyes from coffee to chocolate brown.
My soul is thirsty--guess I didn't drink enough yesterday; I think it's the lack of sanity. I feel like someone named Death visits me every time I fire a bullet, because with every impulse in my index finger, an ISIS militant falls to his knees. He's horrible in theory, but incredibly useful in reality. Death is a man with good intentions, just masked in evil, covered, cloaked in midnight black, with a face of eternal aging. Death is on our side, though. All 6 of us have made it until now. Only one round has even touched us--Albert was the unlucky one, with an indent on the left arm with a relatively small bullet, maybe .17 caliber at most. Strange that the friendliest of the squad was the first to be hit. He's fine now. Other than that, killing is a normality. Our record for a single day has tallied to about 56 people. Our opponents are contained in the Northeast corner of Syria, where their stronghold lies, still impenetrable.
I know it's a horrible time to mention our consequences, but I'm almost sure that Death will come back at us, to balance the scales.
P.S: I just received your care-package yesterday. Thanks for being there for me. I really can't send anything home-- stupid freaking Marine Corps Regulations. Just to make sure though, I got: 5 printed pictures from our SeaWorld day, a little box with 3 packets of my favorite brand of coffee, and your return letter. I know there is nothing left you needed to add, just because that's what I ask you for--a memory, a distraction from the moment, and a hope. I wanted to cry when I took the box, but I remembered what you asked me to keep, before deployment.
Love you,
Will Zhang
YOU ARE READING
15 Letters
Roman d'amour~~~2021~~~ Will Yong-Gi Zhang is in the 1st Marine Force Reconnaissance Unit, and he is writing in form of letters to his girlfriend, Etsuko Kato. Will is being deployed to the Middle East to fight in battles against ISIS. The UN is in a struggle a...
