Strangers in Falling

Chapter 13 (Unedited)

A/N: I had this chapter nearly finished Saturday. I probably had six hundred words left to type. But while I was working at the sawmill I got a sander belt caught in the lathe while I was making barstools. I got whipped with it and sliced open three of five fingers on my left hand.

Hurt like hell to type on my computer.

IMPORTANT: Because of the reasons above, I used a speech to text app. I had it read the result back to me, but sometimes I make mistakes. There WILL be a few errors. Be be kind with me.

EXTREMELY IMPORTANT:

As we get farther in this book, I want you to realize this: I am HIGHLY conservative. I am on the republican side of the spectrum. You will and should notice a love of guns, a love of country, of family, of life, and of morals. So I support less government activity in our everyday lives and I don't support gun control. But what I don't support the most is ABORTION. So if you want to talk politics, go find a friend. Where I come from, no matter the scenario, these things are an absolute sin.

So when these topics are mentioned in the book or are mentioned in the books I have planned to write next, don't say

"Oh, that's why we need gun control."

Or "oh, that's why she should have had an abortion."

Or "Oh, damn, we need more government presence in our lives."

Don't say it. This isn't a place to talk politics.

wattpad isn't the place for that crap!

*rant over*

//
C H A P T E R 13|M I L E S

Bill Wessex: Miles, I'm glad
to hear from you. Can you
make it tomorrow at seven?

A sigh of relief has me sinking into my seat and throwing an arm over my eyes. He waited three days to respond, probably to let the suspense build. The wait was spent in tedious ways. I cleaned my house, I finished unpacking the boxes, and I visited Hal as much as possible. I did all these things in order to create a routine, which is something that I always had in the Marine Corps. I always had a routine. Getting messed up on the other side of the world was not my ideal way of ruining that routine. I always thought that ruining that routine would be falling out of line during a routine drill, or for eating too much ice cream, or not pressing my uniform to perfection. But that didn't happen. Instead, the most unspeakable things happened, things that I can barely think about, things that destroyed my life forever. Simple tasks gave me some knowledge that maybe I could be on the correct path to being normal again because if I can't prove it to Wessex then I have to prove it to myself to make him believe it.

When the text came in I was sitting in Bean Yourself Cafe. The cafe has been my safe haven every day since I found it. It's a place that I find most comfort in, that I feel accepts me the most. There's just something floating in the atmosphere in this tiny hole in the wall Cafe that makes me feel... complete. It's an odd feeling, one I haven't felt since leaving the Marine Corps in my dust.

Chelsea makes her way out from behind the counter until she's standing over my table. She takes one look at me, her eyes dropping to my feet and back up to my head and says, "What's got you smiling so big?"

I drape my arm over the back of the chair and tilt my head back up so I can look up at her kind oval face. With my free hand, I type, "Do you know Bill Wessex from down the street?"

Chelsea tips her head to the side and scrunches her eyebrows at me. She scratches her cheek, "How could I not? That crazy old hoot has been taking up that lot by the gas station for as long as I can remember. Well, actually I can remember. He's been inhabiting that space since he got out of the military. He was in my senior class. The Army drafted him straight out of high school. Poor thing, I don't think he ever recovered. Some demented stuff befell him down in Vietnam during the war. He's coming along just fine, but I'm still not sure what his mental state he is in. He barely ever leaves that shop. Not a lot of people go there anymore, due to the government and all, but he watches out that window every day, every minute, just in case some unfortunate soul wanders across the lawn. That's when he pounces on you to buy something."