Creepy urban legends

korean war letter

It started off with a expression, a expression that changed everything about my life. A lift of an eyebrow, a small smirk and then a finger that touched a forehead and a voice that said "Aha, I know just the thing." That was the expression that was shown from our teacher Mrs.Catherine. We all groaned at the same time, we knew that meant she had come up with an assignment to give us.
"I want all of you, to write a one paragraph letter to a soldier fighting in the Korean war." My teacher smiled happily at us and we groaned again, but this time I was interested, it was a good assignment, maybe one of the best I had so far in the 1st grade.
She reached behind her desk and grabbed a stack of lined paper, walking down the aisles she put one on each desk and eventually slipped behind her desk and sat down, she pulled out a book of her own and lifted her head and said, "You may begin." Then she tilted her head down to her book and started to read. I looked down at my paper and started my first letter, the letter that would also make my death come true.

Dear soldier,
My name is Tommy Rider, I am 7 years old and am in the 1st grade class. I have a 14 year old sister named Barbara and dog named Scruffy. I live in Derry Maine and have a small white house with a picket fence surrounding the outside. We have a garden that my mom tends to constantly so it's very nice. I am very proud you guys are fighting so hard for out country, thank you.
-Tommy Rider

Right as I finished signing my name the bell rang and we all jumped up from our seats and rushed out the door, Mrs.Catherine attempted to say goodbye to us but just sighed and read her book as the noise of clattered classrooms filtered into the hallway.

It was the school year of 1952, like I had said earlier the Korean war was going on, and our soldiers were fighting hard for our country, I had a dream to be one when I was older but of course when your 7 years old your mind changes a lot about what you want to be when you grow up. I had a couple friends, a boy named Mike and another named Paul. Those guys were awesome, we did everything together, well not everything, most days we would go down by the stream and look for crawfish, and other times we would bring our fishing poles down there and catch Minos. The days were hot in Derry when it neared summer so the stream down by the Barrens was the perfect place to cool off. It was a safe town and nothing happened there, but since we was still in the 1st grade, freedom was restricted in many areas.

Three weeks after I wrote the letter I started getting the nightmares, they all started off very calm but turned into awful scares that woke my up breathing real hard and sweatin like a pig. My mom would run into my bedroom when I screamed, tell me it was all a dream and nothing was real, then tuck me in and leave, so I could still hear the echos of gunshots ping pognin inside my head.
The dream always started off with a peaceful swamp, butterflies would be flying around and all the crickets would be chirping, and then suddenly it all scanned out and the swamp turned into muddy pits and trenches filled with screaming soldiers, fire would be bursting on some dead trees that had once been beautiful willows and oaks, men shot at each other with big guns and grenades would be popping like party balloons as they were thrown at our country and the enemies​. Then it all scanned down to one man sitting in a trench a letter in his hand with my name written in smudged letters on the back, he had just shut the letter like he had finished reading it, and his face was filled with horror and terror, not from what was going on around him, but from what he had just read was what I was guessing. And every time I had the dream a mean next to him would shake him hard, trying to get him to come back to earth, then I could see a grenade fall next to him and the dream was blown up into smitherines, and I'm guessing that man had been too. When I looked at that man in the dream there was something about him that was so familiar I couldn't figure it out though, I also couldn't figure out whish was he was in, if it was the Korean war, or one I had imagined
up in my head, all I knew was that man looked so scared from what he read in my letter but still why?

12 years later:

I walked through town, smelling the sweet scent of coffee through windows, the recruiters office stood in the middle of town, it was tall and painted a light cream color, making the buildings around it seem dark. It was inviting me inside and I was happy to except it's invitation. I walked up the steps and in through the doors, I smiled at the desk clerk, and watched as she searched around in a drawer until she found what she was looking for, she handed me a slip, with a #4 on it and I took a seat in the waiting room. Three other men sat near me, reading magazines, one blew his nose loudly into a hankercheif and then stuck it back in his pocket, I cringed at the sight and my thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice booming, "#1 come to my office please."
Eventually after scanning through magazines the loud voice boomed again, "#4 come to my office please." I looked up and walked towards a man holding his office door open. He closed the door behind me, scooted behind his desk, as I situated myself in front of it. He glanced down at a crooked pencil, straightened it out and then looked down at me. He was a tall man, about 6 foot, with slicked black hair, he wore a military uniform and his face was set into a frown with his lips in a tight line. He took a deep breath and begin,
"What's your age...ummm" he glanced at the clipboard "Tommy Rider?"
"I'm 19 sir."
"Yes yes, and why do you want to join the military Mr.Rider."
I looked at him hopefully and said,
"I've wanted to since I was a boy and would like to pursue that dream to help my country sir." He nodded and then stood up, I followed his movement and he stuck out his hand, shook mine, and said, "We will inform you if you are accepted." I nodded and he ushered me out of his office. He called the next number and I smiled at the Desk clerk again as I walked by. I opened the door to bright daylight and made my way back home.

Three weeks later I got a letter in the mail, I knew what it was before I opened it. And after I read it I ran inside to tell Mom. There were lots of tears when I left, from my older sister who came from the next town over to say bye, and from mom. The bus that came and picked me up was a dark green army bus, other men got on too, waving goodbye to their wives or girlfriends, relative's, and friends. And as I hugged them goodbye and got on that bus I didn't know I would never see them again.

Months later after I had finished all my training courses I was a big part of the army, I was one of the people that was looked up to by everyone, know one imagined that I would get killed so quickly. We had been sitting in the trenches not to far away, it was a beautiful place, filled with life. It was a swamp and butterflies flew around our heads as old willows creaked above us. We sat around keeping quiet but laughing at jokes that we all told. Only a couple weeks ago we had been transferred to Vietnam where we were supporting the southern Vietnamese, this made the Northern side not very happy, so we had to be ready for a battle constantly. The man in charge there was Sargent Charles, a very serious man, he was tall and had light blonde hair that was shaved down so only about a centemeter was still standing. He pulled out his bag and grabbed a big envelope, inside the envelope were a bunch of letters, he handed us each a stack and said, "Read em, all from some kids in the kindergarten who decided to send us soldiers some letters." I open up the first one and read it, and do that for the next couple. Then I come to a particular one, it's new and on the back in neat little letters has the name Tommy Rider. My heart skips a beat, there could always be another Tommy Rider, right?
"Sargent Charles sir? When were these letters written?" I say, my voice shaking slightly.he glances over at me and then tears open the next card,
"All of them were written last week." I freeze, it couldn't be possible, could it? I tear open the card, my hands shaking and there in front of me, I read the words,

Dear soldier,
My name is Tommy Rider, I am 7 years old and am in the 1st grade class. I have a 14 year old sister named Barbara and dog named Scruffy. I live in Derry Maine and have a small white house with a picket fence surrounding the outside. We have a garden that my mom tends to constantly so it's very nice. I am very proud you guys are fighting so hard for out country, thank you.
-Tommy Rider

How could this happen, I stare at the card, and in the distance I hear something I've been trained to listen for,
"Gunfire!!!" Srgt Charles says, they shake me but I don't move I just sit and stare at the card, the next thing I know, everyone's calling for backup, gernades are blowing up, and trees are lighting on fire. And I remember something, a dream I had when I was a kid, where a soldier gets a letter that had my name on it, and he's sitting in a once beautiful swamp that was now in flames, and he looks up from the card and dies. I realize that man in the dream was me, I dreamed of myself dying. And that's when I look up from the card, my card and see a gernades fall next to me, and all I can think about was that letter that I wrote and that expression from Mrs.Catherine that changed everything.