Morning Cup

5. Donut, 1304.

"Tell me more about Alabama, is there any family of yours left?"

We're enjoying the sandwiches she's made, everything is perfect, mostly the view I have of my angel, sitting on the blanket I spread on the grass near a little creek, sunbeam dancing on her beautiful features.

OK. Let's sum up what nonsense my life has been before her.

"Alabama was wonderful, as long as my mother was still with us. The scum of the Earth that was my father owned a farm where my brother and I worked hard. He let my mom die from the flu, spending the slightest penny in alcohol. No money left for the doctor. She died the winter of my 17 years. I left without looking back after I buried her, alone in the cemetery, my bro and that dickhead too busy to celebrate the funeral getting wasted with fake booze. I did odd jobs through the state before signing up for the army which became my real family. I remember thinking... nah, it's silly."

Her sweet gaze encourages me to go on, as my fingers tear blades of grass and daisies up from the ground.

"I remember thinking I could be closer to her up there, I liked to picture her face in the clouds. That's how I became a pilot."

I chuckle, I've never opened up to anyone before. I don't want to sound too whiny or childish, though I don't feel like she's judging me. I feel like I could spit all my sins out and she would still stay here with me.

"I'd like to go back to Alabama when the war ends, back to the farm if it still exists. You know to do something else than blowing up things. I want to build things with my bare hands, I dream of better days, a simple life, a family... Sorry, this sounds so boring..."

The truth is I've started dreaming about building a family since the first time we talked.

"Please, no, I like to hear you speaking of better days. I find it..."

"Cute?" I lift an eyebrow, teasing her.

"Yeah, cute." She laughs.

"What about you? How does a beautiful angel like you end up in a military base in the middle of the Pacific?"

"I'm sorry to tell you your life doesn't deserve the award of the saddest story of the year. My dad was a Colonel of the U.S. Army. Both my parents died 3 years ago in a car accident. As a ward of state, I was sent to a boarding school for girls, while my older sister married Gessepp who was a friend of our father. He's 15 years older than Jessica but he used to be nice when he came home for dinner. He helped a lot after they died and when he proposed to my sister, we both thought he would take good care of us. He changed after their wedding.
He turned into a disgusting pig, a drunk, racist, misogynistic asshole, who just treated Jess like shit. He stopped beating her when she was expecting their child, but it's been twice as bad since Abigail was born. He insisted to call her Abigail "the joy of her father", fuck me, he hates having a girl. Jess did her best to protect her but she's been so weak after the birth, she begged me to come here and take care of the baby."

She pauses, her eyes shining with tears, which makes me love her even more. I hate knowing her sad or upset. Or not safe.

"Does he hit you too?" I ask, figuring out the answer.

She rolls her eyes, only to prevent warm tears to spring from her eyelids. Uselessly.

Brushing quickly her cheek with the back of her hand, she looks at me straight in the eyes, begging me not to go further.

"Please, don't waste this perfect day with unpleasant things. Let's say Jess and I do what has to be done to keep the baby safe."

My blood is boiling in my veins, I wish I could wrap myself around her and never let her go, keeping her safe in my arms, along with Jessica and Abigail.