A story I'm writing in loving memory of all the soldiers who die for our country May they rest in peace: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tears slowly crept down our faces. Goodbyes weren't enough. Word can't describe how I feel right now. I want to cry out to him, but I know he'll never hear me. I feel he's a million miles away already. I watch my dad walk to the plane, and wave my final goodbye. It's too bad I didn't know that would be the last time I saw him...alive. The 6 months following his departure were cruel. My mom wouldn't speak. She lay in bed all day staring at the blood flowing from the knife wounds on her wrists. I could see death slowly creeping up on her. I couldn't take this horror. I snatched the knife and threw the shiny blade out the window. I knew she would thank me later. There was a knock at the door. My dad was coming home in one week, so it was probably a worker from the military to remind us. I was partly right. The agonizing cries from my mother told me this wasn't any good news. I crept down the stairs and into the living room with a muscular white military officer and my mother, whom was bent over in the fetal position clutching the rug in her cut-up wrists. "Miss," the officer said to me. "I'm sorry to inform you that your father has been fatally wounded in battle this morning. It would be a miracle for him to survive something like this." And right then, something in me just...snapped. I ran to my room and pulled out the knife hidden in my beige drawer under my clothes. No one could stop me. But right when the clear blade was but an inch from my rapidly beating heart, I stopped. I can't do this to my mother. She's pretty much lost one member of her family; I can't leave her alone in this. I can make it through this. My dad flew back on life support so he could at least die in peace at our nearest hospital. I visited him every day, praying that by some miracle, he would open his eyes and see his only daughter looking right back at him. The heart monitor was getting slower. I leaned my head against his, trying to fight the tears. I was minutes away from losing him. I kissed him on the cheek, to say my last goodbye. The heart monitor slowly rose. Is this really happening? As a reply, my father opened his deep blue eyes, and whispered, "I'm home." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If you liked this story, comment an idea you want me to write about and I might post a story about it on here I'm currently working on another so be patient
Loved it. makes me tear up in the end. Dad sounds like he survives? Good story Mandy I like imagery in next story
Good story! Perhaps stretch out the agony before she stops the knife? Make it slower; go into more detail. To make it more emotional. Also, make end last a bit longer! Good story!