The Soldier Next Door

There are days when you think you don’t believe anymore. When you think you have grown too old for miracles. When you have lost hope, and you have lost everything. You think all is lost, and all is dire and bleak. The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

No.

You do not need to know precisely what is happening or exactly where it is all going. You need to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment and embrace them with courage, faith, and hope.

I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. You may not know where you’re going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.

Miracles are just second chances if you really think about it, second chances when all hope is lost.

It has been a day, and there is absolutely no improvement with my dad. Funny enough, I have been talking to him, hoping that by some bizarre reason that he will talk back. I guess in my own way, I think that it will bring him back, so I have given up but a few hours ago, for it seems that it will not be working.

With each ticking second, my heart grows even more fearful; I fear that maybe all is seconds are up. I know that I should have faith, but how can you have faith if the person that you have faith in is the very person that is not here.

Do I believe in miracles?

I believe that a miracle is just pure coincidence that something has come together at a time you need it the most.

I have briefly gone to see my mom a few hours ago, but she was fast asleep, so I deep not stir her. I am sure that she must feel just as hopeless as me, but apart from my dad, she looks like she is doing pretty well. It is terrifying, though, to see the state of her body; there was for one moment that I thought that it was not my mom. But if you look past all cuts and bruises, it is the very woman that I love with all of my heart, and she is going through an incredible pain. It breaks me that I cannot be will all of them at the same time.

And this reminds me, I have not spoken to Ana for over two hours now, so I slip my phone from my pocket and sent her a quick message, “Boo, how are you doing?”

It does not take even but ten seconds, and she sends me back; her spelling is a bit on the offside; I am sure that her hands are trembling, she must be in so much pain, “You know me, soldier. I am a real fighter. How are your mom and dad?”

“My mom is looking better, but my dad has had no improvement.”

There is a slight silence for about a minute, then she sends another message again, “You know that your dad will fight like a bitch.”

I cannot help but burst out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter; then I gasp, realizing, but then I stop for I know that he cannot hear a single word I am saying. So I reply to Ana, “Boo, I love you. I promise I will be back home as soon as I can.”

“Don’t rush, soldier; I am not going anywhere.”

With that, my eyes start to turn into puddles of water, and it only takes one last thought of leaving her alone like this, and my cheeks are covered with tears.

And as I am trying my best to stop them from falling, I see Gibbs appear in the doorway, “Hey, get some rest. You look like shit.”

“Thank you for your kind observation, but no, I am fine.”

“Stop being stubborn, Ethan; you have not had sleep for three days.” Then he pauses for a brief moment, “I saw the nurses’ showers; you can do with some cleaning up.”

“Are you telling me I am dirty, perhaps even smelly?”

“Hahaha, I am not letting you punch me for saying that, but just stretch your legs, go for a walk. Fuck, go grab us some coffee; I will stay with the old man.”

Hoping that by the look on my face that he will drop the subject, I reluctantly give in, “Fine, I will go get us some coffee.”

I cannot ask for a better friend than this man, who will sit here by your side for endless hours when it is not even his parents? He carries my pain, and he carries my fear with me and not once does he complain. If not for him being here, I would have fallen to pieces, yet I have so many times over, but he is here to help me pick them up.

So as I find myself walking down this long white corridor, I cannot help but feel how horrible this situation is. Life can lift you up and fulfill all your wants and your desires, but it can also rip your heart from your chest and stomp on it.

The doctor keeps on saying that my dad will get better. Then why is he constantly standing around his bed with a big frown on his face? I am starting to believe that he does not know anything that he is saying. He keeps on telling me that I should give it time; well, I am asking where is the time? Are we not running out of time the longer he is away?

They tell me that if I speak to my dad, he will hear me. Well, I say that is bullshit. I have been talking and talking, and he has not had a single reaction. I do not see his body moving; all I hear is that godawful beep of that machine. The machine does not even start to beat faster every time I squeeze his hand. I honestly think that he has no idea that I am by his side.

One thing I do know is that I am slowly dying. I cannot bear to see my dad like this. He is strong and is always giving you shit; now he lays there as weak as ever. He is not even half of the man he is. We have feared for many years that it shall be the Marines that take someone away in our family, but now we are sitting here, and a fucking coma is wanting to rip the man that holds this family together away.

After trying to stay away as enough to keep Gibbs satisfied, I return to the room with our coffee in hand. He only but smiles at me, “You know that did not take far as long as it should have?”

“I was hoping that you would not realize.” I pause for a brief moment, “Hey, we are Marines; there is no such thing as doing this slow.”

He only but smirks as he whispers underneath his breath as to think that my dad will hear him, “There is one thing I sure hope that you are not so quick with.”

The laughter comes rumbling from my chest, “Have you heard Ana complain before?”

“Oh, no, but I can recall the whole camp hearing her scream.”

“Ya, what an embarrassing day. But hey, you can really go home. You do not have to stay here with me.”

“I am not going anywhere, but I do think I am going to go use that shower, and hopefully, there is a nurse in it.”

“God, you are terrible.”

With that, he rises from the chair, and I sit down again. Now perhaps there was a part of me that hope that there would have been a change in the ten minutes that I have been gone. But just as I am about to get completely comfortable again, I see the Doctor walk in.

Trying to compose myself, I rise to greet him, “Hi, Doctor.”

“Ethan. How are you holding up?”

“Well, as long as he is not awake, then I am not holding anything up.”

“Yes, well, I can say with certainty that your mother is doing very well. I still have her sedated for the pain.” Then he turns to face my dad, with that goddamn frown on his face again. “Your dad,” he pauses for a second, “There has been no change. The swelling on his brain is not coming down as fast as I was hoping. I am afraid…”

I immediately interrupt him, “All we can do is wait?”Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Sorry, son, I don’t have any good news for you. But I will run some tests in the morning again; in the meantime, I will adjust his medication.”

Not being the most reassuring man in the world, he turns around and leaves the room. A sea of emotions floods my being, and I am overtaken by a pain that is far greater than myself. My dad simply has to pull out from this.

So as the tears start to feel heavy, they trickle the corner of my eyes. The unbelievable urge to break down and sob consumes my body again. I want to fall apart. I want to crumble to my knees and feel every single ounce of pain that my dad is feeling.

Then as I raise my head to take a sip from my coffee, I am shocked to my core by the sight in front of me.

“What the fuck?”