Fantasy Life

Chapter Three

Once I get home, my dog greets me immediately. Penny is such a great girl. She always knows when something is wrong. At first I just give her a half-hearted pat, then she looks at me funny and I can't help but chuckle. She smiles in the most adorable way. Then I give her a belly rub and go to my room.

I start on my homework for about 10 minutes when I get a text. It from my dad. This should be good.

Hey honey! Working late tonight. Coworker left me with a lot of work. Sorry!

He has the lamest excuses.

I look over to my picture of my mom, my big brother Mason, and me at the beach playing in the sand. My dad took the picture. Ever since we lost my mom four years ago, my dad was never the same. He is never at home. My family built this house together when I was four. We have always lived in this town.

I think my dad wants to move but this house is so great and it makes us feel closer to mom. I think that's also why my dad is always at work. He doesn't want to sell the house but it hurts to think of mom so much, but it would feel wrong to let someone else live in her dream home.

Mason is at the army right now. I miss him a lot. He has been gone for over a year now.

My thoughts get interrupted by the doorbell. I was so deep in thought that I almost fall out of my chair! I go to the door and I see someone out there that looks familiar, but I just can't place them. I open the door and look at the person standing there. It was a man. He has scraggly hair and a little goatee starting to grow. He wore boots, worn out jeans, and a navy green shirt.

"Izabelle! I've missed you so much!"

I would know that voice anywhere.

"Mason! Ohmigosh! You look so different! I thought you were supposed to be in Iraq! When did you get back? Why didn't you call me? Did dad know you were back? Did-"

That's when he cut me off.

"Wow sis, calm down. One question at a time! Yes, I do look different. I'm 22 now. They released me early. Instead of letting me come home for good in September I get to stay now. I got back late last night. I didn't call you because it was 11:00  so you should have been in bed and I was tired too. I didn't tell dad. I wanted you to be the first person to know."

I was crying now. I don't cry much. This is my second time in a day I've cried. I haven't cried for two years! I reached up and hugged him.

"I missed you so much."

I then realized that he must be exhausted still so then I ushered him inside. Then I noticed he walked with a little limp. He was trying to hide it but I could still tell.

I made him sit down on the couch, and then when I couldn't stand it anymore, I asked him.

"Why do you walk with a limp?"

He groaned.

"You could tell?"

That's when I got angry.

"Of course I could! I'm your sister! I have known you my whole life! The thing you where always the worst at was acting. Now spill it. What happened in Iraq?"

"Fine. There was an explosion and I was trying to save my troops but while doing so I severely injured my leg. The doctor explained that I could do mostly everything I could before but I would never run or walk without a limp."

All my anger had turned to crushing fear. Cautiously, I asked,

"Why would you always have a limp?"

Reluctantly he replied,

"I had to have half of my left leg amputated."

I felt like getting sick. Then, the world went black.