The Soldier

A girl recounts the last moments she spent with her love, Rixon. PLEASE READ!!!

I sit in my room staring at a blank space on the wall; at least it used to be my room. Now everything has been packed up, save for a few articles of clothing, my laptop, and a single picture sitting alone on the shelf. That lone inhabitant of that photograph has been the source of many sleepless nights and Ben and Jerry comfort sessions. Sometimes, when I am all by myself, I can almost hear his voice and feel his touch. Whenever that happens, I think back on that day; the last day I saw him- the soldier named Rixon- and it makes me wonder if my tears back then were premature; maybe I should have spent more time smiling when I still had a reason to. But in moments like these, full of thoughts of him, I have no time for regret. All I can do now is cling to those last memories and allow looking back to bring me closer to them- so close that I am actually there.

…

The streaks of rain pounding against the windshield of our parked car mirror the tears on my face. Rixon sits next to me, clueless as of what to do. He hangs his hands awkwardly in his lap and watches me cry. I can see from his internal struggle flashing across his face that he never meant to hurt me like this. I know that. He warned me from the beginning that this would happen; this is how we would end at the close of the summer. He told me back in April, that in September, he would be leaving. But even though I have known for months, I also know that nothing he told me before, matters in this moment.

The silence left from my crying, fills the car, along with awkward sadness. Rixon tries to put his arm around me, to comfort me, but I do not move, I just look at him through the corner of my eye, and see him turn red. The coldness of my stare stops him dead in his tracks. He then mumbles a weak apology under his breath, but it falls on deaf ears; there is nothing he can say that will make me feel any better. I think he realizes this from the finality in my eyes, and the resulting look on his face knocks a hint of guilt into me. I realize that now I am the one making him feel bad by being spiteful and unreasonable and taking my sadness out on him.

However, before the guilt can fully form in the pit of my stomach, suddenly, a new thought hits me, causing my sadness to subside as I am struck by a wave of frustration so thick that I am blinded by a haze of red. I am enveloped by it. This is his fault. He is willingly causing the source of pain that wells up in my chest. Without thinking, I throw the door open and get out as quickly as I can, slamming it behind me. My clothes are drenched within seconds, but I do not care. I can’t stand to be in the same air space with him for another moment.

Rixon rolls down the window and calls after me, in shock by my irrational actions, begging me to get back in the car. I stubbornly refuse, and with a huff of exasperation, he follows me out into the rain and comes around to the side where I am standing. I turn around quickly to avoid having to look up into his eyes. He grabs me roughly by my shoulders and spins me around, grasping my face in his hands so that I have no choice but to meet his gaze.

I can see that he is soaked and his hair is clinging, wet to his forehead.  His eyes are wild, matching mine.

“What the heck are you doing?? Are you trying to get sick out here?” he demands, breathlessly.

“No” I reply teasingly, only answering one of his questions.

I bite my lip to suppress the urge to laugh and he stares at me bewilderedly. The look on his face is too much; a small chuckle escapes me, causing him to look even more confused. He probably thinks I have gone mad, and maybe I have. He finally releases his hold on my face but maintains his grip on my shoulder; raking his hand through his dark hair, he lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Can we please not do this right now? I need to get you home.” He asks, desperately.

“But I don’t want to go home yet” I reply, immediately somber.

I know that today is the last day I have with him, and I want to make it last as long as possible.

“Fine” he agrees. “But can we at least sit in the car? It’s freezing.”

I do not say anything; I just nod my head in agreement. He is right; for Chicago, it is unseasonably cold. Even though it is only the beginning of September, the rain is icy against my skin and the wind creates a chill deep within my bones.

Just as he is about to walk me back to the car, I feel a shudder lace through me, and he wraps his arms around me for extra warmth. I take advantage of the embrace and bury my face in his damp shirt, breathing his smell and committing the scent to memory. For some reason, the smell takes me back to when we first met, only several months ago.

In February, we got a new addition to our biology class- a senior named Rixon. His reputation preceded him everywhere he went; he was a notorious bad boy. With that being said, even though we had gone to the same school for almost two years, I had never actually met him until he walked into the classroom that day.

This is going to sound really sappy, but the moment our eyes met, I swear my heart skipped a beat and I felt myself turn red. He smirked knowingly and I quickly looked away, mortified. Then, to my further embarrassment, the teacher pointed him to one of two empty seats in the class room, which happened to be the one next to me. I was not exactly thrilled, especially because I had a feeling that I would have to carry both of our weights. My initial expectations were wrong, however, and after the first awkward interactions, he more than covered his share of assignments, and we became quick friends. 

Looking back on it now, I suppose it all happened a little too quickly. I began falling in love with him before I even noticed. By May, when he asked me to the formal dance, I said yes without a second thought.

Every detail of that evening is permanently etched into my mind. I specifically remember his face when he came to pick me up from my house. He smiled from ear to ear; almost mimicking the Joker. As soon as I saw him, I was speechless. He looked like a god in his suit, blue eyes glowing in perfect unison with his tie. I doubt I will ever see anything as beautiful. I even remember the way it felt to dance with him, his body held tightly against mine, and his arms wrapped around me. Everything seemed to fall into place; at that specific moment I looked up at him and realized I loved him. It was a revelation. I felt as though I was peering directly at the sun, but I never wanted to look away. Right then and there, I thought I would never have to.

That is why, now as I am standing here in the rain, my face buried in his chest with his arms wrapped around me once again, I am sad, because I won’t have those moments anymore. I am sad because I cannot help that I fell in love with him- sad because although he warned me, he warned me too late. He did not tell me until the next day, that he would be going away to serve in the war- the day after the formal, after I fell in love with him.

When he finally told me, I put on a smile, and then went home and cried. I cried for two hours straight, until my eyes were swollen and I had run out of tears. I cried until my bed was covered with a sea of used tissues and my sleeves were a damp mess. My mom comforted me by bringing me home some delicious sweets and deep fried food, and my cat snuggled up along my lap. It was an emotional experience, but once it was over, I swore to myself that it would not happen again until the end of the summer.

At their graduation, the promise I had made to myself was seriously tested, when they announced the new military enlistees and he stood up, I could already feel the tears threatening to spill over. But when I looked at him, so obviously proud, with his chest puffed out and a goofy grin smeared across his face, I could not help but be proud too. I was happy because he was happy. I gathered all of my mental strength and used it to push all the fear and sadness into the back of my mind, to be dealt with again at a later time. Perhaps I did it a little too well, because it did not fully hit me that he was leaving, until two days ago.

…

I got to his house pretty early that morning because he asked me to come over. When his brother let me in, I walked up the stairs and straight into his room. I was shocked to find everything packed into boxes, and the walls bare. All that was left of his room was a bed with two sheets, a chair in the corner, and his uniform, which sat folded neatly on the dresser. I couldn’t even fully walk in; I just stood at the doorway in shock, unable to comprehend what was going on.

“What happened to all of your stuff?” I choked out the words, barely able to speak.

Rixon had not realized I was there, and I could see I had startled him a bit.

“Oh, umm. My mom has moved everything to storage. I leave in three days, remember? Mostly everything I’m taking with me has already been packed into my luggage.” He replied, sheepishly.

I certainly did not remember. I simply stood there like a fish out of water, with my mouth gaping open and closed. I had not even realized how much time had passed. I stared at the only thing on the wall- a calendar. It was littered with big red X’s that seemed to be counting down to the date with the circle labeled MILITARY BASE. Today’s date was already crossed off and there were only two spaces left. That meant I had two days. Two days left with Rixon. The thought made me sick, I could feel my stomach climb up into my throat and my heart constrict uncomfortably. Where had my summer gone? Where did all my time with him go?

He noticed the pained expression on my face and immediately he was at my side, holding me to him as tightly as he could. I could barely breathe but I did not mind. I appreciated his proximity now, it was as if he were holding me together; if he let me go, I would surely crumble. We stood there for a few moments; him holding me, and me in shock with my arms locked at my sides, until I could return the hug. He looked down at me with a goofy grin.

“You didn’t know what time was, did you?” he asked, mostly teasing.

The look on his face made it impossible for me not to return the smile.

“No. I hadn’t realized where all the time had gone.”

“You were too busy being in love with me?” He asked, still joking.

But this time I could not answer. The words were too thick and they got caught in my throat along with a sob. But I could not cry then. I had not cried at all, not until that day in the car with him- the last day I would ever see him.

So as I sit here now, in my mind, I am pressed against him in an embrace, the rain falling down in torrents around us. But in reality, I am here, alone in my room trying to remember every little detail about him. I had not realized it at the time, but every moment that I spent with Rixon was unconsciously being locked away in the depths of mind, to be revisited whenever I pleased.  I will always have these small pieces of him that make me feel a little less alone. Looking back on that day brings me closer to him- so close that I am actually there. That’s why when it rains hard, when I smell a certain smell, when I close my eyes, and whenever I’m alone, I think of him- the soldier that stole my heart and will never come home.

Reviews

[Nu]

I like the stye of going back down memory lane and coming back up. Nicely done :)

[Sunsets&SilhouetteDream..]

During the whole story I was thinking to myself, he's going to come home and there will be a happy ending. That's how these stories go, then bam. The last line. My mouth made a little drop. Other than that, great descriptions of her thoughts and emotions.

[Holly]

Thanks for the feedback... Sorry about the twist ending. Happy endings aren't really my preference :)

[Sunsets&SilhouetteDreams]

Me either, actually. I find them to be unrealistic, and I actually liked the ending because I didn't expect it. I guess I should've explained that. People tend to always want a happy ending, but that isn't life, and that's what I believe you wanted to capture. You wanted to capture what life is actually like, and you succeeded.

[Coyote Poetry]

A well written story. Nothing as hard than separating from someone you care for. The days seem like seconds when you are trying to hold on. I understand the story. I was a soldier and it seemed I was always leaving people behind. I like the feel of real emotion in the story. Thank you for sharing the powerful tale.
Coyote

[Holly]

Thanks you so much for the positive feedback... I'm honored to have impressed a soldier :)