The Western Front

Chapter Eight...

I turned off the shower and stepped onto the cold tile of my familiar bathroom. I wrapped the towel left for me on the rack by the shower around my waist and stared into the mirror. The reflection that stared back at me was not one I was familiar with. My eyes were sunken in, and I was pale. My arms were losing some of their lean muscle and I looked like I was sick. My thoughts turned to my conversation with my mother from a few days ago and I just looked at my feet. I ran my hands through my hair and rested them at the nape of my neck and sighed looking at the ceiling. I then thought about what Darcy had said and I started to cry. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't know if I could actually bring myself to do it.

I decided to just walk in my room and see if I can forget about it, but as soon as I walked into the room, all I could see was my father. He was staring at me in the clothes hanging neatly in the closet. He was laying in my bed with his bloodied uniform looking at me as if I could come save him. I tightly shut my eyes and willed him to leave. I couldn't do it. I couldn't.

I counted down from ten and sure enough, he was gone just as quickly as he came. I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands praying to whatever was up anywhere to give me even a glimpse of an idea on what I need to do. I knew deep in my heart that I needed to do this, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I looked in my closet, and I suddenly got the courage.

I tore my suitcase from where it sat above my clothes in the closet and tossed it on the bed taking armfuls of clothes and chucking them into the large case. I tossed my comb and grease, my favorite jeans, and my beloved T-shirts into my luggage. I sat on it and buttoned it. I gave my room one more look over because I knew it would be a long time before I saw it again. I picked up my suitcase and walked out the door.

I tiptoed through the hallway desperately trying to keep quiet knowing my mother was sleeping. I heard her start to come to consciousness, and I got an enormous dose of adrenaline and anxiety. I bolted. I pounded down the stairs losing all composure, my suitcase loudly banging on each step as I bounded down the stairs as fast as I could. My mother raced out of her room running after me calling my name trying to get me to come back to the house, but I refused to listen. I made my way through the kitchen and made the mistake of looking over my shoulder before I reached the door. My mother was sitting at the threshold of the kitchen crying her arms curled into her chest. I turned quickly shaking my head ridding my mind of the image. In my haste, I snatched my leather jacket off of its hook and rushed out of the house.

I tore out of the house still running, jacketless, and didn't stop until I knew I was a safe distance away. I reached the end of my block and bent over breathing heavily from the intense run. My lungs burned intensely as I coughed. I turned my gaze to the stars desperately trying, without much success, to find an answer to my present predicament. Why was I running away? I didn't hate my home life. My mother was an amazing woman who deserved everything in the world and more. My sister was an angel. Why was I running away? I asked this question multiple times, and without coming up with a satisfactory answer, I almost turned home. It wasn't until I heard his voice that I heard that satisfactory answer.

"Michael, you must do this. It's the only way," the voice said.

"Who are you?" I asked into the darkness completely astonished.

"Do you not recognize my voice, son?"The voice of Gerard Harvey himself asked me.

"Dad?"

"Son, your mother is just distraught, she will come around," He said quietly. I could see his caring face in my mind's eye.

"Dad, how do you know that? She didn't even visit me in the hospital," I said just as quietly.

"Son, you are her son. Even if she didn't want to love you, she would anyway. She's your mother and that is what she always will be," He said to me sternly.

"I miss you, Dad," I told the voice.

"I miss you too, Son," He replied. I reached out into the night, and as I started to say another sentence to my father, I felt his presence leave me.

I fell to the ground in a heap over my suitcase and broke. The weight of what had just happened in the last few minutes had struck a deep chord. My mother was crying because of me back home. The home I knew I would never be able to return to. By me running away, was basically sending myself my eviction notice. My thoughts immediately turned to Bonnie and how much I needed her right now, but I knew that if I indulged myself in seeing her even one last time, I wouldn't leave her. I wouldn't be able to leave her alone in this war without me.

I stood up off the ground and put my jacket around my shoulders and started the long walk to the bus station. I made the mistake of leaving my car at the house, but I knew I wasn't going to need it where I was going. So I just continued my long walk to the station.

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Hey guys it's Molly here. Sorry this chapter is a bit short, but I thought I'd leave a nice cliff hanger for you guys.

I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you guys for reading this book. It really means a lot to me. I
hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it. Anyway... I'm gonna end this here. Thanks again guys. I love you!!