I'll Follow You Into The Dark
Twin brother and sister Abigail and Michael Middleton have just graduated from military school, and Mr. Middleton wants Michael to enlist in the army... but not Abigail. Mortified at the thought of her brother being slaughtered in a battlefield, Abigail enlists to protect Michael. Even if it means risking her life and playing a game with death, she's willing to do anything to protect her brother.
"Abigail, you can't go out there all the way to Afghanistan, it's too dangerous." Mr. Middleton said, putting his hand on top of my palm. "Dad, why are you letting Michael go, we're inseparable - if he dies, part of me dies too. Same applies if I die first." I said, angry on the inside, but calm outside.
Dad won't let me enlist in the war, but Michael was pressured into going, since dad was a veteran. There's a bullet still lodged in his back, but he calls it a token of war. Wars shouldn't have any tokens; the only thing that's a token is all the dead bodies you see, limbs blown off, heads being shot off the person's neck-
"We're brother and sister, twins to be exact. We were born together, so we better die together too." This left my dad silent, and quietly he left the room, as I sat there at the table, and went into a deep state of thinking. It was a nice day, there were no clouds in the sky. Imagine how many men and women don't get to ever see the sun again.
I looked at myself in the glass of the window. My hair was a sand/dirt color, and my eyes were a haunting bright green. If Michael were a girl, we could pass of switching places for the day back in high school. Sighing, I got up from my chair, put on some sneakers and went to get roses from the garden.
I stopped by the cemetery, and found my mother's grave. Selene Charter-Middleton, July 27th, 1958 - September 11th, 2001. "Hey mom," I whispered, placing the roses on the grave, kneeling in the grass, my pants getting slightly soaked from the dew.
"Michael is going to enlist in the army, because dad wanted him to. I wanted to do it voluntarily, but he said no." I didn't expect an answer, but I began crying a bit anyway. "If Michael dies, can you take care of him up there for me, if I can't be there?"
I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, and said, "Mom, I miss you, it's been ten years and I still can't forget that day." No one could, especially those who lost loved ones that they held in their hearts. "I'm not eager just going to war for Michael, I'm going to war for you."
I left the cemetery, feeling my heart fall into my stomach, and I felt as if I couldn't walk. When I came back, Michael was there, reading a bible. "Hey Michael," I said, my nose stuffed, and he put down the bible and he ushered me to sit on the couch.
"What's wrong, Abigail?" I shook my head and finally whispered, "I want to go to war, with you." Michael just stared at me for a second, his eyes were showing shock. "But Abigail, this is war, I mean, you could be scarred by what you see, and I don't want to come back from war tending to a mentally traumatized sister."
I shook my head and replied, "I can't let you go alone, it would go against out promise." Michael looked confused for a few seconds. "What promise, what do you mean?" I breathed in and said, "We were born together, so we must die together."
Michael then remembered, and he said, "I could never forgive myself if you got killed." I gave him a glare and said, "I'd never forgive myself if I let you go to war alone." Silent, he just left me on the couch, and that's when I heard an argument upstairs.
"Dad, why couldn't you have been more firm about the war enlistment?" snarled my brother.
"I thought that Abigail would understand!" Dad shouted.
"Well now she's hellbent on protecting me!" yelled Michael.
"She's your sister for Christ's sake!" Dad retorted.
Then, there was silence, and Michael said, "Let her go to war with me."
"What? Are you mad Michael Anthony Middleton?" Dad shouted, only angrier.
"Listen, how do you think she'd take it if someone came back to California and said that I was dead? Meeting my maker, biting the biscuit, in the dead zone?" Silence again, and I heard Michael come downstairs, and he muttered curses under his breath.
"You know that I'm not just doing this for you." I stated, playing with a loose thread on the lime green couch. Michael cocked his head, and he asked, "Then who else are you doing it for - Uncle Sam?" Michael made a dry chuckle, and stopped when I glared at him.
"I'm doing this for mom, Michael." I left the living room, went upstairs to my room and plopped on the bed. "Oh Lord, please protect me on the battlefield... and me also means my brother, he's a piece of me." I hugged a blue pillow close to my torso and turned on my iHome.
Stop and Stare by OneRepublic was playing, and with that, my eyelids grew heavy, tears streamed down my face quickly. Before I fell asleep, I felt Michael's lips press against my forehead, and he stroked my hair 'til all I saw was the room fade before my eyes.
Dad won't let me enlist in the war, but Michael was pressured into going, since dad was a veteran. There's a bullet still lodged in his back, but he calls it a token of war. Wars shouldn't have any tokens; the only thing that's a token is all the dead bodies you see, limbs blown off, heads being shot off the person's neck-
"We're brother and sister, twins to be exact. We were born together, so we better die together too." This left my dad silent, and quietly he left the room, as I sat there at the table, and went into a deep state of thinking. It was a nice day, there were no clouds in the sky. Imagine how many men and women don't get to ever see the sun again.
I looked at myself in the glass of the window. My hair was a sand/dirt color, and my eyes were a haunting bright green. If Michael were a girl, we could pass of switching places for the day back in high school. Sighing, I got up from my chair, put on some sneakers and went to get roses from the garden.
I stopped by the cemetery, and found my mother's grave. Selene Charter-Middleton, July 27th, 1958 - September 11th, 2001. "Hey mom," I whispered, placing the roses on the grave, kneeling in the grass, my pants getting slightly soaked from the dew.
"Michael is going to enlist in the army, because dad wanted him to. I wanted to do it voluntarily, but he said no." I didn't expect an answer, but I began crying a bit anyway. "If Michael dies, can you take care of him up there for me, if I can't be there?"
I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, and said, "Mom, I miss you, it's been ten years and I still can't forget that day." No one could, especially those who lost loved ones that they held in their hearts. "I'm not eager just going to war for Michael, I'm going to war for you."
I left the cemetery, feeling my heart fall into my stomach, and I felt as if I couldn't walk. When I came back, Michael was there, reading a bible. "Hey Michael," I said, my nose stuffed, and he put down the bible and he ushered me to sit on the couch.
"What's wrong, Abigail?" I shook my head and finally whispered, "I want to go to war, with you." Michael just stared at me for a second, his eyes were showing shock. "But Abigail, this is war, I mean, you could be scarred by what you see, and I don't want to come back from war tending to a mentally traumatized sister."
I shook my head and replied, "I can't let you go alone, it would go against out promise." Michael looked confused for a few seconds. "What promise, what do you mean?" I breathed in and said, "We were born together, so we must die together."
Michael then remembered, and he said, "I could never forgive myself if you got killed." I gave him a glare and said, "I'd never forgive myself if I let you go to war alone." Silent, he just left me on the couch, and that's when I heard an argument upstairs.
"Dad, why couldn't you have been more firm about the war enlistment?" snarled my brother.
"I thought that Abigail would understand!" Dad shouted.
"Well now she's hellbent on protecting me!" yelled Michael.
"She's your sister for Christ's sake!" Dad retorted.
Then, there was silence, and Michael said, "Let her go to war with me."
"What? Are you mad Michael Anthony Middleton?" Dad shouted, only angrier.
"Listen, how do you think she'd take it if someone came back to California and said that I was dead? Meeting my maker, biting the biscuit, in the dead zone?" Silence again, and I heard Michael come downstairs, and he muttered curses under his breath.
"You know that I'm not just doing this for you." I stated, playing with a loose thread on the lime green couch. Michael cocked his head, and he asked, "Then who else are you doing it for - Uncle Sam?" Michael made a dry chuckle, and stopped when I glared at him.
"I'm doing this for mom, Michael." I left the living room, went upstairs to my room and plopped on the bed. "Oh Lord, please protect me on the battlefield... and me also means my brother, he's a piece of me." I hugged a blue pillow close to my torso and turned on my iHome.
Stop and Stare by OneRepublic was playing, and with that, my eyelids grew heavy, tears streamed down my face quickly. Before I fell asleep, I felt Michael's lips press against my forehead, and he stroked my hair 'til all I saw was the room fade before my eyes.
0 Comments
No comments yet!