Whispering to the moon

Part 1: Duke

'I should probably get up.' I think to myself. My moms probably gonna walk in here any second with Jessy and Daisy, my twin sisters, just to scream the annual 'happy birthday.'
I fling my blanket off my legs, feeling the goosebumps take over my body. The fuzzy pajama pants my Aunt Sasha gave me for Christmas don't seem to do a good job keeping me warm. I stand up, wobble a little because my foot was half asleep, and take my first step towards my closet. After looking back at my camouflage bedding, I decide to take a second and make it. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room and realize that all the work around the barn is really paying off. I walk closer to my closet, after making my bed, and yank a T-shirt off a hanger. I don't look at it as I throw it on my body. I bend down to the bottom drawer in my dresser and pull out a pair of faded blue jeans. After closing the drawer and my closet door, I slide out of the pajama pants and put on the jeans. I toss my pajamas into the hamper in the corner of my room and walk to my desk. I open up the top drawer and grab the envelope and my pocket knife. I flip the knife open, slice the envelope open and take out the two pieces of folded paper. I watched my mom put the envelope in my dresser last night but promised I wouldn't open it.
My mom told me it was a letter from my dad, which is kinda weird to me because he died three years ago. My sisters aren't old enough to remember him so I tell them "bedtime stories" all the time. My dad was struck by an IED on the way back to camp to train new recruits. Him and his three army buddies died almost instantly and the folded flag, from the funeral stays in my room above my t.v stand. Occasionally I'll look at it and feel the tears welling up, but it keeps me going for mom and the two girls.
   "Hey Duke. Happy birthday kiddo. I'm sorry I can't be there with you. These newbies need LOTS of training but I hope this letter gets to you soon. Oh, Mom's got something for you; ask her for it after you're done reading this. This letter isn't very long because I don't have much time in between training the new recruits and me being Master Chief Petty officer Johnson. That's got a nice ring to it. Don't ya think? Again, I'm really sorry I can't be there today. It kills me. Remember, you're the man of the house when I'm gone. Take care of the girls and your momma. Give her a hug for me, will ya? I love you bubba. Happy birthday.
   After reading that part of the letter, I fold it back up and put it in the envelope. The second paper, looks older than the notebook paper, so I open it very delicately, not wanting to rip it by accident. It's a drawing of my dad before he died. It marks every little detail, every freckle, every tiny little scar, his laugh lines. Every little detail is perfect. Every little detail makes me miss him more and more.
   After reading the letter again, I fold the papers back up and put them back in the envelope and wipe away the tear that's gently falling down my cheek. Knock knock.
"Yeah?" My mom opens the door slowly, eyeballing the freshly made bed and the half-empty laundry basket. She only opens the door a little bit more before Jessy and Daisy, my 7 year old twin sisters, barge through. They ignore the fact that by bed just got made, and jump all over it, crinkling the camouflage blankets and flinging the matching pillows on the floor.