All war stories are told behind a lie. Things don't always come out the way it was supposed to and truths are altered. The true victors of a war are the liars. For if there is war, nothing is won at all. Nothing but mere hell is created in a warzone and our brothers and sisters lie upon us dead contemplating if they died for a cause in the afterlife. Neither I or my comrades were expecting our own foundations to fall apart.
"A house divided against itself cannot stand." -Abraham Lincoln
Micheal Burns takes a sip of lemonade while sitting on his porch. The house croacks as he rocks back and forth on his rocking chair. He looks again at the pictures and thinks to himself what he could've done when he was away from home. But Micheal was over that, way over that. It is mid summer and the kids started getting school supplies to return to school. I remember when I went to school he thought. He was reminded of his gray stringy hair and the oily wrinkles on his skin and the stress of being a college student. He also remembers when his parents used to be alive when he was still young.
Micheal stands up slowly as his back starts to ache. He picks up his cane and opens the door into the house. The floors creak with every step he takes and the house seemed dead. Not dead, but if a house had a soul with the poeple that lived in it, it seems as if it was stolen by the devil. The house was an oven in the summer and a freezer in the winter, there was no ventilation within the house. Micheal walks in the hallway full of pictures of his father and mother as they hold 'baby' Micheal in their lovingly arms. There he also sees his graduation pictures from high school with his family. Micheal takes a step into the living room and sits down on the sofa.
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The bell rings and I start sprinting to my fifth period class. That wasn't the worst of my worries, I have a final next week for my Engineering class and a Trignometry quiz on Friday. Friday of course, is only two days away and that means Rachel's party is only two days away as well. I reach the classroom and as I open the door the class has already started.
"Where's your pass young man?" Mr. Gillinger questions me.
I simply ignore the teacher and walk to my seat. Mr. Gillinger then crosses his arms and walks towards my desk at a steady pace as if I were about to be lynched. Mr. Gillinger stands next to my desk,
"Richard this is your twenieth tardy this month and you missed three weeks of school, expect a phone call home."
Every student in the room stares at me as I have nothing else to say other than bring it on because once I graduate i'm never seeing one of these bastards again. I set my backpack down next to my desk and bring my waterbottle out.
"Okay class, now that ALL of you are here, I know that you are aware of the next project coming up so be prepared for it. The assignment is to interview an individual who has brought change into either others, the community, or themselves. And I don't want that 'my printer wasn't working' or 'I didn't have any ink' crap. This assignment is due on Friday."
The whole class sighs and the whole week just got worse, I have a interview due on Friday and not only that I have to study for that Engineering test and have work after school til seven. The kid who sits infront of me looks at me. He has brown hair and his eyes are chinky as hell. I bet he's about to ask me a question because he does, everyday. He falls asleep in the class and expects someone to give him awnsers all the time.
"Hey what did the teacher say?" he asked. See I told you, he asked me that because he couldn't keep awake.
"Dude ask someone else, you always ask me that everyday." I respond.
He looks away with disgust, damn I got him in a pissy mood. He stands up and takes his backpack with him. He tells the teacher to give him a cut and leaves the class. That student's name is Andrew Ming. He's probably the worst student that I have ever met.
The bell rings and everyone packs up.
"Okay class don't forget your assignments that are due two days from now!"
I pack up my backpack and I walk towards the door. Thank god this class is over, now I can focus on better things. I leave the classroom and in the corner of my eye I see Rachel down the hallway. My heart starts to pound and my hands started to sweat. I scratch my neck as I pull away my collar as I approach Rachel.
My hand feels like a pool and I haven't even talked to her yet, I get nervous and I hold myself back. I see Rachel with her boyfriend and now I feel self-conscious. Her boyfriend put his arm around her shoulder and they both laugh. I walk by as if nothing happened.
The last bell rings and the students are released from school. I walk to my locker that is all the way to the third floor and my legs feel sore from gym class. I use my combination and open my locker. In my locker I have pictures of my father, my father was a United States Marine and served his country Afghanistan. My shoulders slump and I look down at the ground, I miss my father. My father passed away from an IED that he encoutered. His squad told me that he was clearing out a building for a family to go inside and take shelter and that's when the bomb went off. My father died a hero and he be damned well impressed if I became one too. I plan to follow in my father's footsteps.
I leave the school building with my father's picture of him with his fellow comrades. If I had the chance I would have my interveiw for my English class about him. I walk into the parking lot and step inside my car. I start the engine and put the car in reverse. I check my mirrors and check behind and before I start moving there is a car crash. Was it not only a car crash, Rachel was in it and she wasn't moving inside the car.
