American soldier

Prolong

Prolong:

I never really believed in pure sorrow. A sadness so heart clenching and stomach churning that it sends shivers down deep into your soul. No, I didn't believe in that, and most importantly, I didn't want to experience it. It was to stay a mythical feeling and never happen to me. Fate though has a funny way of making sure you can't always get what you want.

The soft snow fell onto the ground in an eerie peaceful silence. The entire world muffled as I looked upon what once was a human. A living, breathing person who laughed and cried. A person who had friends, family, memories to share with others. A person who had something so beautiful just because they were living. A person who was my dad.

The first day I remember my dad getting sent across seas was when I was seven. I had just gotten home from school to see my mom weeping on one of our sofas next to the fire place. I had never heard my mom cry before, and I certainly never thought anything could make her this upset. I inched my way over to her timidly, almost like she was a dear and I was the hunter. I wanted to comfort her, make her feel better to whatever got her so distressed. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her to make the biggest bear hug I could give. I asked her why she was crying and she just stared at me as silent tears trickled down her cheek. I remember being mesmerized by her eyes. Oh how blue and bright they were. So full with emotion and power that anyone with a brain could see how upset she was. Finally she whispered out that daddy was going away for a while. Being the child I was, I laughed and told her we could simply just go with him. A small, sad smile creped across her face as she slowly shook her head. At that time, I didn't understand why we couldn't go with daddy, nor why daddy had to go, but deep down somewhere inside of me I understood that this wasn't just a vacation.

And now as I stare down at my father's lifeless body, I understand the meaning of heart broken. It's a feeling so horrible that tears can't even come. A sorrow so depressing that you feel drowned in it. Something that is so emotionally real that it physically hurts you. Yeah, that's how I feel.

"Kendra would you like to say a few words?" my mom's voice echoed through the empty cemetery as all eyes landed on me. I didn't want to speak at my dad's funeral. In fact I didn't even want to come. I didn't want to see my hero, my protector, my fighter so helpless. I didn't want to see the man that once protected me and my country in this state. He didn't deserve to be remembered like this; as a dead, lifeless body. Yet, I felt myself stand up and make my way to the podium. I turned to face the audience once I was up there but nothing came out of my mouth. As I looked around at all the people who came here, all the soldiers that stood still in the chilly December weather, I felt a sudden urge of pride. Pride that my father, a soldier of only four years, could have captured the hearts of all these people. Even the military men who stood by his casket knew him as a friend, maybe even as a family member. As another blast of cold wind blew throughout the grave yard, I put my lips next to the microphone,

"I don't know what to say. It's not that I didn't know him, it's that I knew too much about him." I paused to take in a deep breath, "He wasn't just a dad or a friend or a family member, he was hope. Hope that some of us, including me, could never understand. Instead of looking at the day as a disappointment, he looked at it as if it was a gold mine. He worshiped the lesions it taught him; he believed that no matter how bad a day was, there should be no reason to hate it. In that way, he was something more special than any other person I have ever known. That's why I didn't want to be here." I looked around as many people's expressions changed from tearful smiles to questionable frowns. Inhaling again, I continued,

"I didn't want to see my father like this. A person who was so full of joy and happiness now dead and cold in the ground. I didn't want to remember him that way. Why would I want to see my hero, a man more extraordinary than other people, like this? But then again, this right here shows his protection and devotion to everyone he loves; his country, his family, and his love for every human being that is worth a fight. Today isn't going to be the day he died, instead, it's going to be the day he starts living in all of us, in our memory and in our hearts. "I listened as my last words were blasted into the crowd. Silent tears rolled down people's cheeks as I stared into the audience. I slight pang of guilt hit me in the chest as I look around at how emotionally strong I hit everyone. Because in all honesty, today would always be the day my dad got put into the ground and I would never ever see him again. In my eyes, that's not living, that's eternal death.

A/N:

So hi there! I know this chapter is REALLY short, but I mean it IS just the prolong. So comment how you felt about this chapter :) thanks so much for reading!