If Only I Weren't Late

Dear William Havers

Captain peered out of the window with a stern expression, but truth be told, he couldn't help but internally panic. The war was over, and he desperately needed to hear from Lieutenant Havers. A knock was heard. "Come!" Captain exclaimed. A messenger stepped in.

"It's about your friend, sir. Lieutenant Havers." The man frowned.

"Ah, yes. What is his status? How is he?" Captain asked eagerly.

"Well, sir, he's..." The messenger paused for a second. "He was found dead on the battlefield. A wound in his chest."

"W-w-w-what?" Captain stuttered. His heart dropped and he felt himself become heavier. "H-h-he's gone?! It simply cannot be... He was a strong man..."

"I'm sorry to have told you this, Captain. I best be going now." The messenger said shutting the door behind him. Captain's eyes watered and a tear rolled down his cheek. Captain was a strong man, but his heart weak.

.

A week after the news had passed, and Captain was feeling weaker than usual, knees shaking, breaths more shaky. He insisted he was fine. After all, he believed he had to stay strong for the people of lesser ranks who looked up to him. The war was over though, but Captain couldn't falter. He was always tense and wary in those times, he couldn't risk being unprepared for yet another war.

He remembered his childhood, a sweet little fella he was. Then his teenage years. He remembered a newspaper about a 'Lady Button' falling from a window. Then the war started. He was only sixteen when it started, and he was sent as a soldier in 1916 when he turned eighteen. An injury to his knee he had recieved. By the end of the war, he was 20, ripe and ready for another try at Jerry. If another war started at least.

Now the second war was over. Now he could rest. But alas, Havers was gone, and so was Captain's will to fight. He had completely given up, and he was packing his things for next week, when he would move back to his humble countryside house. Nobody waited for his return, unsurprisingly to him. He had a weakened state, but he shook it off as nothing. He stopped for a second, and remembered his letter, then set off for the garden.

.

"Captain are you sure you are fine?" A soldier asked.

"Yes Miller, there's no need to worry about me." Captain stumbled about. He had become extremely weakened and his breathing quite shaky.

"Are you sure sir?" Miller was extremely worried by now as Captain's condition had worsened every day, even more when Havers came to mind.

"Yes Miller, now stop making a fuss about it."

"Sir, please remain seated. I'll fetch you a drink."

"Ah, yes. Thank you." Captain said as he sat up in his bed, pointer in hand, and Miller rushed out of the room. Captain began closing his eyes, for he could not keep them open any longer. He thought of Havers.

For one last living moment...

.

Miller returned to the room with a cup of coffee. He saw Captain on the bed, unmoving. Not breathing. He ran over to feel his pulse.

Nothing.

Miller panicked even more.

The beloved Captain had died, and only known to himself, of a broken heart.

Dear William Havers,

           I know that you'll do great on the battlefield. I will miss you dearly. Of course, I say this on behalf of everyone serving at button house. Along that statement, I wish to say farewell and good luck to you, Havers. It's a bally shame we couldn't finish the operation together, but I know you'll come back safe for us. For me.

          I love you William Havers, and I know this feeling is not mutual, but please do not cut me out of your life. You are the greatest thing to come into my life, Havers.

~Sincerely, your Captain.

The letter... it was buried. His feelings were buried. And Captain nor Havers got their happy ending. A tradgedy.