Come Home To Me

It was a cold, dusty morning in the abandoned town of Pryacre. Aubrey was sitting stiffly on the edge of her scrawny bed, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled silently down her cheek. Her 22 year old fiancé, Lieutenant William Benson, was on the other side of the room packing his bag and polishing his army boots for the last time before his deployment. In less than an hour, Aubrey would be all alone, fearing for her fiancés life as he fought as part of the front line in the Vietnam War. What he didn’t know, was that Aubrey was four weeks pregnant with his child.

 “Aubrey, I will be okay. I promise within 100 days, I will be home again to hold you.” he whispered into her ear as he gently sat next to her on the bed. He wrapped his strong, tattooed arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“I know,” she managed to choke out while staring at the carpet. “I know.”

“Then don’t look so glum.” He said standing up and planting a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “Come on Hun, it’s time for me to go.” Looking up at William with sad eyes and a tear stained face, she stood up and dug through her nightstand drawers frantically.

Aubrey found a photo, kissed it, and then held it to her chest as tightly as possible. After a few moments of silence, she pulled away and turned to face her army man. “Here.” She said, shoving the photo towards him. “I want you to take this. Keep it safe. It will help you stay safe.” Looking down at the photo, a smile crept onto Williams face.

“Thursday, the 24th of September 1970.” William recalled. “This was down by the ‘Old Oak’ in Mason’s park. You were wearing that pretty blue Hawaiian beach dress with the nude flats I bought you. Right there,” he said pointing to a particular spot under the tree, “that was where I got down on one knee, and you became my fiancé.” William stared at the photo, and then turned to Aubrey.

“Promise me something? I need you to promise me something.” She pleaded with urgency, before he could say anything more.

“Anything,” he promised.

“Write to me every available minute you get. Write letters, postcards, send pictures. Just don’t fall short of contact with me.”

“I will, I promise. I will write to you as soon as I’m allowed. Come on Aubrey, it’s time for me to go. I’m running late; I have to go now.” And with that, he kissed Aubrey for the last time, heaved his bag over his shoulder, and walked down the dusty street. Aubrey watched on, until nothing was left of him; not even the upturned dirt of where he once was. Hours past, and eventually she moped back inside, and slept the coming days away.

Three days passed; still no letter from him.

Two weeks passed; still no letter from him.

One month passed; still no letter from him.

Three months passed; finally, a letter from him. Aubrey walked glumly down to her letter box, stumbling through the dead grass. “Damn you pregnancy side effects and my stupid swollen feet.” She cursed. Fiddling with the metal door, she swung the letter box open and pulled the envelopes out. Shuffling through the mail, Aubrey glared at a very official envelope, not recognising the neat, cursive handwriting that was displayed on the front. Walking back to the house and placing the letter on the bench top, she stared it down deciding whether or not to open it. Finally, she gave in to curiousity and opened the envelope. The more of the letter she read, the more nauseous Aubrey became. She wasn’t expecting this kind of letter from the military base.

Dear Miss Aubrey Swift, 

We regret to inform you Lieutenant William Benson was killed in battle at 9:38am on the

Morning of March the 21st while an enemy force shot him repeated times in the chest. 

Sincerely, 

Commanding Officer Paul Johnston 

Australian Army Corpse

Not believing what her eyes were reading, Aubrey tried to take it all in. “No, he can’t be… he just can’t be…” She mumbled to herself. And with that, Aubrey sat down, and just stared at the carpet. Not talking, not thinking, hardly breathing, Aubrey just stared at the carpet, and decided to stare the coming days away.