The Story Of Soldiers

Chapter 23

Warning(s): past death, knives,

Diaz clings to memories. He can't help it, it's just how he is.
He holds onto the memory of his dear late wife, Abina.
He still remembers the day he met her.

He had just run from his home, barely managing to catch the bus to the military program.
Juan had been secretly training for a few years now to enter the military. He'd train every day. Running, working out, swimming. Everything.

No matter how bad his muscles burned, no matter how hungry or tired, he kept pushing. He kept going. He never gave up.
Even as he struggled to maintain a decent college life just in case it all went downhill. He kept going.

Along with his shit part-time job and the younger than him bossy no-body that nags him about doing the little things that didn't even matter.
Juan didn't believe in little things. He'd always thought about the big things.

On top of that, he struggled to hide the money he made from his job from his nosy excuses for his parents.
Knowing them, they'd probably take it all and spend it on alcohol if they found out about the loose floorboard in his room.

Now, as he gazed out the window of the bus that was taking him to his new life, he wanted to smile.
Juan was never one to brag or congratulate himself. But now, he couldn't help but be proud of himself for getting out of that hell hole.

"Excuse me," came a kind voice from behind him and he snaps around to spot the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
"H-hi," he stuttered, suddenly feeling very hot with embarrassment.

She chuckles and then tucks a strand of long black hair behind her ear.
"Is this seat taken?" She gestured next to him.
Juan scrambled to get his stuff off the seat, blabbering and feeling like a fool.

"No, n-no, it's not. Y-you can sit. I mean, if you want to. I mean- you can, but if you don't want to." Now he felt like an even bigger fool.
She chuckled and sat next to him, and holy shit if he wasn't already red in the face.

"So, what's your name?" She prompted as if Juan wasn't too busy admiring her beauty to hear the question.
"Uhhh, you okay?"
Only then did he realize he was staring. "Sorry, uh, it's Juan."

Juan swallowed. "Juan Diaz. You?"
The woman smiled. "Abina."
Her name was gorgeous, just like the rest of her. Her silky black hair went down to her mid-back, her eyes a deep color of chocolate that he couldn't get out of his head, and her dark skin smooth as could be.