The Lonely Hearts Club [On Hold]

Prologue

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The Lonely Hearts Club © 2014, PureAwesomeness67

This book, “The Lonely Hearts Club” including all chapters, epilogues and associated content is copyrighted. All rights reserved by the owner and creator of this work and any unauthorized copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law.

Disclaimer: Any references made from any TV shows, books, movies, poems, or music is not owned by me. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely a coincidence.

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A/N: So, this is my try at writing in a guy's POV. We'll see how it goes... Also, there's some swearing in here. F-bombs will be dropped. Just warning you.

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The Lonely Hearts Club

Prologue

   I don’t know what I was thinking when I enlisted in the army, but in retrospect it isn’t difficult to realize I probably wasn’t. Clearly I hadn’t been thinking about the incessant gunfire, hot climate, or the fact that I’d come face-to-face with death multiple times a day. That I’d be causing deaths, a murderer under the guise of a war hero.

   Of course, none of that had happened yet, as I hadn’t even left the country and my only current dilemma was that I had to wait in the airport for at least a few more hours because the flight was delayed. Still, I had my doubts. I also had a sneaky suspicion that I’d have even more once I actually got there.

   Although I was nothing more than a bundle of apprehension and nerves wrapped up in a uniform a size too large, as much as I hated to, I had to admit joining the military was one of the best decisions of my life. Perhaps my mind would change after a night or two in Afghanistan (it wasn’t that hard to imagine—my opinion was already wavering), but right now I was truly convinced that this was the best thing for me.

   After twenty-two years of my life passed by in a flash and I had somehow earned myself a bachelor’s degree in Library Science, I realized that my life wasn’t really going in the direction I wanted it to and I needed a change. I couldn’t blame myself for feeling that way since, honestly, I had no idea Library Science even existed for the first eighteen years of my life, and even now I couldn’t explain why I took it. Maybe it was just a rebellious phase I went through. Most people got piercings places they shouldn’t and started listening to punk-rock; I studied the science of libraries.

   Obviously my life wasn’t getting anywhere, and I was under the distinct impression that joining the army would change that. Save the country, fire some guns, it would be fun and I’d get paid.

   I later realized that it’s only one of those jobs that sound fun in theory and no, I’m not a damn superhero saving the world, and sure, I’d fire guns, but I could do that while playing Call of Duty and not get shot at in the process.

   As much as I’d like to say I was a dumb teenager that didn’t know any better, I wasn’t. I was twenty-two and fed up with the Dewey Decimal System.

   So, being the absolute genius that I am, I signed up for military service overseas.

   And yes, I did this all for myself, not for the “greater good of the country” or any of that. Some would argue that my reason was more selfish than patriotic and I would agree, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I was fighting for myself. For my friends, my family, my life. I was fighting to come back home—I mean, I would be once I actually left—because everything I held most dear to me was here.