Pages Between Us

Cher

Cher

Annabelle,
Now that you are gone I don't know how I'll stay sane here. Our letters kept my mind occupied away from the ghosts that haunt my dreams. Only one more year and I can come home, but now that you are gone where is home? Where will I go? After a day of bloodshed and adrenaline it's night when the images and screams of men come back to us, and when they did I would sit and write to you as an escape. Now what will I do? Max said when one man dies its a tragedy but when many die its a statistic. Out here without you, I know if I die I will be nothing but one more addition to the number of casualties, but the loss of you was by far one of my biggest tragedies. It seems so unfair that I tossed myself behind the line of fire and I have escaped death so far, yet you my dearest sister have met death involuntarily. Rest In Peace Annabelle, I miss you.
                                     -You're big brother, James

Holding the letter as I sat on the porch steps of my new home I felt my heart tighten more than it had before. It was stamped from the US military and I felt a tear escape my eye as I felt the pain and loss the soldier had left in this letter. It had arrived today. I've barely unpacked my boxes and when I saw the red flag on the mail box held up I felt my throat tighten that maybe he'd found me. However when I saw the seal on the letter and the name of the young woman who passed away nearly a month earlier, I knew it wasn't for me. It seemed like a waste to throw it away, for my mother always said that if someone takes the time to write you a letter, you should read it. After reading the letter I felt as though I should have never opened it after all.

As I unpacked the last two boxes I stepped out back and took a deep breath of fresh air and enjoyed the cool breeze that lifted my hair. My mind wandered to the soldier that wrote the letter and I felt compelled to give him a response, to tell him he wasn't alone. Going inside to the kitchen table I grabbed a pen and paper to write a reply. Not knowing how to address him I began with the date instead.

February 23,

I can imagine your surprise while reading this letter as I am surprising myself by even writing it. This might seem strange for me to write to you having never met, but I now live in your sisters home and I received your letter the other day. Out of curiosity I read your letter, I hope you don't mind. I thought a letter like that shouldn't go without a response. I'm not even entirely sure what to say but I can tell you that you are not alone in your nightmares. I don't have any form of advice on escaping them but I can provide you with the knowledge that you are not alone if that provides even the slightest comfort. I too suffer from the nightmares that haunt my dreams and plague my conscious mind, but I have hope that one day I will walk down a sidewalk without looking back or not hesitate when rounding a corner in fear of being found. I have hope that you will make it to the end of your term and find your way to a place that you can make your home.
~Cher

Closing the letter in an envelope I wondered if it was completely ridiculous to give the soldier a response. Personally I'd feel invaded knowing a complete stranger read my words in such a vulnerable state. I zipped up my jacket and tucked the letter inside my pocket before heading outside into the chilly air. Closing the front door of my new home I caught my reflection in the window and noticed the natural chestnut color of my hair was starting to show in my roots and dye was in order. Staring at my roots I felt a rush of flashbacks.

—flashback—

Jack often came home drunk and as I heard the door knob rattle followed by the smell of booze and cigarettes, I knew he'd come from the bar or the strippers. Jack tossed his car keys on the counter and I felt my stomach twist. "You didn't drive yourself home did you Jack?" I ask from my spot on the couch with a book in my lap.

"I got home in one piece didn't I? Don't tell me how to get home" he says pushing my legs off the couch and taking a seat beside me before turning on the tv. I shifted my body upright and placed the book on the coffee table needing to walk away from the smell surrounding the room. "Where do you think you're going?" Jack asks slinging an arm over my shoulder and pulling me into his side. He buried his face in my neck and took in a deep breath of my shampoo. "I find it sexy when you read" he whispers in my ear and the smell of whiskey fans my face making me shift away.

"I'm tired Jack and you're drunk" I say and he yanks my hair back towards him.

"I'm getting sick of your comments about my drinking habits. A man can't enjoy a drink after a day of working to make money to pay for food and rent? to put a roof over YOUR head?" Jack says with anger in his eyes sending a wave of fear down my spine.

I didn't answer and he pulled at my hair harder making me wince and grip my hand over his wrist which did nothing against his strength. He roughly shoved me away from him sending my body off the couch and my hip into the corner of the coffee table knocking his beer to the floor and shattering it.

"Now look what you've done. You know I wouldn't have to hurt you if you'd just respect me" He scowls shaking his head. "You dumped my beer now clean it up and get me another" He says and my hands shake as I pick up the broken pieces and stand to head for the kitchen.

I brought Jack another beer and he stood up and cupped my face gently running his thumb over my cheek. "You know I don't like seeing you hurt right?" He asks and I nod my head silently before he kisses my forehead and stumbles off towards the bedroom. When he was gone I let out a shaky breath and sat back down on the couch bringing my knees to my chest and laying my head back sending a small prayer to God that Jack drank enough to knock him out until morning.

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