My grandfather was in the Army Reserves, and he died before I was born. I wanted to write a story to honor all those veterans and people still currently serving. The theme inspired me to create a story where the emotions are so powerful that you feel overgrown with them.
Dedicated to those who have served and their families.
The Fallen Soldier
by Corryn White
As I walked barefoot along the cold, wet sand I could hear my dad’s voice echo through my head.
His voice told me, “Stay strong.” As I reached the lifeguard stand all I could think about was my dad’s trembling voice as he told my mom goodbye, possibly for the last time. I constantly told myself that I would see him again, but honestly I didn’t know. A month ago my dad enlisted in the Marine Corps, he trained days on end. This was his dream, but when the time came my world was shattered. My dad would be going off to Afghanistan and all I could hope was he would be home for my birthday. “Stay strong” played over and over in my head. Salty tears rolled down my warm cheeks. I thought to myself, “I’m better than this” deep down I knew I was weak, my dad was my best friend.
I can remember my older brother holding me back as I tried to run towards the car. He couldn’t leave us. My mom was a mess after that day, she tried to bottle up all her emotions, instead she spent the days crying in her room. All her pillows were tearstained, and some had the black streaks of supposed “waterproof mascara” she wore. When the time came for her to move on she buried herself in work. We lived off of carryout from the chinese place a few blocks down, she busied herself too much to cook. I spent my days doing homework and watching videos of military dads surprising their kids that I found on Youtube. Suddenly I awoke from my daydreaming, I was sitting all alone on the beach. Tear like drops of rain fell down as though the sky was crying along with me. As I stumbled home, all I could focus on was one thing, seeing my dad again.
Days went by quickly, after what seemed like forever a sudden realization came to me, today was my birthday. Today dad would be here to surprise me, although I decided that when he comes I would act all surprised. Downstairs my brother cooked up some french toast and waffles. We all sat there in silence, I knew what was coming next. I have watched enough of these videos, any second there would be a knock at the door. Sure enough there was, my heart racing. I was sure it was going to be dad. As I walked over to the door I felt happiness flood through me, I haven’t felt that in a while. I opened the door, standing there was not my dad, but two men in uniforms. What was going on? The one soldier asked, “Is your mom here?” I was so confused, my dad was supposed to be behind the door. I called out for my mom and she rushed over. She had a brief discussion and from what few words I picked up I knew it wasn’t good. I could only hear fragments of the conversation. The words, “death, bombing, and funeral” was all I could pick up. Was dad dead? Please no, don’t let him be dead I prayed. This is all a joke, my dad was always joking around with me and my brother. He was going to walk through the door and I would get a cheesy shirt as a present. I knew it. My mom closed the door and my brother went over to escort her to the couch. We questioned my mom about what this was all about. Through her tears, she choked out , “Kids dad was killed, his Jeep ran over a underground bomb.” No, this wasn’t happening this isn’t true. My mom and my brother cried, I just ran out the door. “Dad, come on I know you are here!” I screamed, not being able to grasp the fact that my dad was gone. He’s really dead, he won’t be coming home, ever. I fell to my knees and cried, the tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I wanted to stop and turn around to see my dads smiling face saying, “Hey kiddo, why are you crying?” But instead we all gathered at the church that Sunday so we could all say goodbye one last time, before he descended into the cold and dirty ground. I went up to the casket and told my dad how much we missed him. I talked for a while, pretending that he was there contently listening to everything I said. But all I saw was his ghost behind the casket of him in his uniform.
We sat down and listened for a while, we all cried. After the shots were fired, they folded up a flag and handed it to my mother. My vision was blurred from all the tears. I want my dad back! The one who loved me no matter how annoying I was. The dad who sat with me every night when I was younger to sing to me because I was scared. The dad who helped me learn to ride my bike when he took off the training wheels. The dad who gave a stern talking to the guy who stood me up for homecoming. The dad who was my true best friend.
Dedicated to those who have served and their families.
The Fallen Soldier
by Corryn White
As I walked barefoot along the cold, wet sand I could hear my dad’s voice echo through my head.
His voice told me, “Stay strong.” As I reached the lifeguard stand all I could think about was my dad’s trembling voice as he told my mom goodbye, possibly for the last time. I constantly told myself that I would see him again, but honestly I didn’t know. A month ago my dad enlisted in the Marine Corps, he trained days on end. This was his dream, but when the time came my world was shattered. My dad would be going off to Afghanistan and all I could hope was he would be home for my birthday. “Stay strong” played over and over in my head. Salty tears rolled down my warm cheeks. I thought to myself, “I’m better than this” deep down I knew I was weak, my dad was my best friend.
I can remember my older brother holding me back as I tried to run towards the car. He couldn’t leave us. My mom was a mess after that day, she tried to bottle up all her emotions, instead she spent the days crying in her room. All her pillows were tearstained, and some had the black streaks of supposed “waterproof mascara” she wore. When the time came for her to move on she buried herself in work. We lived off of carryout from the chinese place a few blocks down, she busied herself too much to cook. I spent my days doing homework and watching videos of military dads surprising their kids that I found on Youtube. Suddenly I awoke from my daydreaming, I was sitting all alone on the beach. Tear like drops of rain fell down as though the sky was crying along with me. As I stumbled home, all I could focus on was one thing, seeing my dad again.
Days went by quickly, after what seemed like forever a sudden realization came to me, today was my birthday. Today dad would be here to surprise me, although I decided that when he comes I would act all surprised. Downstairs my brother cooked up some french toast and waffles. We all sat there in silence, I knew what was coming next. I have watched enough of these videos, any second there would be a knock at the door. Sure enough there was, my heart racing. I was sure it was going to be dad. As I walked over to the door I felt happiness flood through me, I haven’t felt that in a while. I opened the door, standing there was not my dad, but two men in uniforms. What was going on? The one soldier asked, “Is your mom here?” I was so confused, my dad was supposed to be behind the door. I called out for my mom and she rushed over. She had a brief discussion and from what few words I picked up I knew it wasn’t good. I could only hear fragments of the conversation. The words, “death, bombing, and funeral” was all I could pick up. Was dad dead? Please no, don’t let him be dead I prayed. This is all a joke, my dad was always joking around with me and my brother. He was going to walk through the door and I would get a cheesy shirt as a present. I knew it. My mom closed the door and my brother went over to escort her to the couch. We questioned my mom about what this was all about. Through her tears, she choked out , “Kids dad was killed, his Jeep ran over a underground bomb.” No, this wasn’t happening this isn’t true. My mom and my brother cried, I just ran out the door. “Dad, come on I know you are here!” I screamed, not being able to grasp the fact that my dad was gone. He’s really dead, he won’t be coming home, ever. I fell to my knees and cried, the tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I wanted to stop and turn around to see my dads smiling face saying, “Hey kiddo, why are you crying?” But instead we all gathered at the church that Sunday so we could all say goodbye one last time, before he descended into the cold and dirty ground. I went up to the casket and told my dad how much we missed him. I talked for a while, pretending that he was there contently listening to everything I said. But all I saw was his ghost behind the casket of him in his uniform.
We sat down and listened for a while, we all cried. After the shots were fired, they folded up a flag and handed it to my mother. My vision was blurred from all the tears. I want my dad back! The one who loved me no matter how annoying I was. The dad who sat with me every night when I was younger to sing to me because I was scared. The dad who helped me learn to ride my bike when he took off the training wheels. The dad who gave a stern talking to the guy who stood me up for homecoming. The dad who was my true best friend.
Corryn White is in eighth grade at Oakdale Middle School. She enjoys swimming, reading and hanging out with her friends. She is also fond of photography and playing with her dogs.
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