Dear Edward, Heather Parsons [best way to read ebooks txt] 📗

Draped in a blanket, she curled up on the couch, turned the TV on and gasped. The news channel announced the on goings of the war, the death count and showed pictures of tanks with soldiers standing by. Explosions rocking the camera man back on his heals and tilting the view to show things they shouldn't show, ever.
Cries rocked through her body but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen. Shaking with force, she wrapped the blanket tighter and cocooned herself. Shutting out the outside world and seeing only what she wanted to see, what she desperately needed to see, his face.

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Hospital beds are only a slight step up from sleeping on the stone hard ground, John thought. He'd been here, in this bed for weeks, building up his strength to face the world. He recognized some of the faces that visited him often but the one he wanted to see, she hadn't come by.
Stretching his legs, John swung them over the side of the bed and for the first time in weeks stood on his own. He'd been practicing late at night, after the last nurse would leave the room. Uncomfortable about being here, he was desperate to leave soon.
Tomorrow he kept telling himself, tomorrow the doctor said he could leave and damn it he was gone. So working extra hard as he was, adamant about walking out on his own, he practiced.
But now as he lay in his bed the only person he thought about was Brianna. How was she handling everything? Did what happened to him cause her more pain? He cringed just thinking about it.
That night he didn't sleep, dozed off a couple of times but didn't sleep. His thoughts focused, muscles strong, he faced the daylight bright eyed.
“Mr. Thomas I see your eager to leave. Already dressed and ready, that's good but one last thing. You need to take it easy, I know your excited about jumping back into your routine but I'd advise you take a couple weeks off and relax. You can't afford to have a relapse.” The doctor stated as he walked in the room, seeing John standing with everything in hand and tapping his foot, impatiently.
“Will you sign my release papers, there's someone I need to see.” John spoke with urgency, trying hard to keep his eyes from watering and giving away that he wasn't completely fine.
With walking papers in hand, John walked swiftly out of the hospital doors and into the sunlight. Squinting his eyes away from the light, he searched through narrow slits for transportation to get him where he needed to be.
The house was in view, he could see that nothing had changed from the outside but still his heart beat faster the closer he was. It was too quite and he didn't like it.

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In the room Adam shared once with his brother, Aaron, he sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled through his tears. Boy would he be proud of him now. Going back into the fight to help out this time, he thought, shaking his head. Could he really do this? Leave everyone behind and disappear, maybe this time not come back. Would it be fair? Would she understand, he needed this?
Thinking of Brianna was clouding his mind, making him think twice about what he was doing, causing his heart to break off another piece. He felt trapped.

TEN

“Brianna, Brianna! Oh God NO!” John screamed as he burst through the door, seeing the room completely ransacked. Letters, clothes, pictures, everything one person could hold dear to them thrown about in a way that stated, distress, anger and heartbreak. There was not a bare spot on the floor to step, to move without stepping on something personal.
John scouted the room, searching with his eyes first for any sign of life, anything that would tell him he wasn't too late. His heart started beating in a horrible way, panicking breaths escaped his lungs, his hands were in tight fists clutching his already torn heart. He was too late, he thought, she'd done something, ended her pain, ended her life.
He fell in a heap on the floor, tears escaping his eyes and cried, “no.”
For some reason, Adam couldn't keep himself from telling Brianna what was happening. Driving slowly to her house, taking in deep calm breaths to ease his nervous heart, he thought, by telling her it would ease his pain. He could promise to bring Jason home to her, if that was possible, anything to make her see what he was doing was right.
Thoughts twisted in his mind, would she understand his dying need to do this? To free his conscious, his guilt, his pain. Only one way to find out. He made the long driveway seem short, speeding up the hill only to stop dead it his tracks, seeing the front door open and John propped up against it.
As quick as he could, Adam ran to him, skidding to a stop and dropping to his knees. “John...what's...” His eyes took in the room and panic spread through him. “Where's Brianna, John?”
He shook his head unable to speak, his mouth not able to form words that he needed to say. Blinking, John tried to push himself up but couldn't. He didn't have to strength, his heart felt heavy with despair. With Jason gone and now Brianna, John didn't want to fight anymore, didn't see a point in living without them.
“John don't you dare give up.” Adam shook him until he opened his eyes, staring into the distance he spoke again, “there's something I need to tell you, it's about Jason. We've found where he is and I'm leaving in the next few days to get him out and bring him home. So, you can't leave, you can't give up because your son needs you, John.”
“You know where he is?” John asked in a near whisper. Disbelieving what he heard. It's been years since he last saw Jason, since he'd been shipped out to fight.
Adam didn't want to lie, didn't want to be the bearer of false news but he couldn't stand by and watch another friend die. “Yes, sir.”
“You have to find Brianna, you have to tell her.” John's eyes lit up a little, still unsure if he was hearing Adam correctly but so desperately needed this. Now.
“We'll find her together.” Adam said, pulling John to his feet and embracing him in a hug.

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Flares shot off in the middle of the night, lighting the sky, making it look like daylight. Guarding were screaming, rushing around with weapons pointed out towards to trees. Shuffling of boots kicked up dirt sending it into the holes that held the prisoners.
“Something's wrong.” SGT Thomas whispered, looking up through the branches and seeing the dismay. His heart quickened at the possibilities of their escape but died just as fast when the shots were fired.
Only one other time had this happened since he's been here. An escape was a death sentence served cold at this camp. If you had to chance to escape at all, Thomas thought. He shook the thought from his mind, shaking the memories that went along with it and crouched back in the corner, in the dark.
The others scrambled to the dark corners too, hiding away from the fight that was taking place just above their heads. CPT Dumas sunk down in the dirt, wringing his hands, trying to clean himself of the dirt and grim that encased them. Trying to find a way to help not only his troops but everyone else that was there. It wasn't his responsibility but his duty to make sure all soldiers made it home. That's why his heart skipped a beat when he heard the last shot and knew that that soldier would never make it home, would never be able to escape this place. The burden he carried was heavy, very heavy.
Maggots and urine soaked dirt covered SPC Carter's wound. Infecting it beyond the normal but he would never say anything to anyone about how much he was in pain. Never tell them that sometimes he saw lights shining in his eyes where no light should be.
They'd not been able to leave this hole to do anything, making one spot in it as a bathroom and another to sleep. The flies the surrounded them, ate at their skin, encased their wounds and made for the worse case scenario possible.
Weeks had flown by and every time they thought would be a perfect time to escape, someone else thought the same thing. Almost a nightly ritual shots would be heard from guards catching soldiers who had escaped. Those soldiers would be placed on display for all to see, beaten severely almost to the brink of death then given a couple of days to recover before the screams of beatings would begin again.
Hearing them drove the remaining soldiers crazy, no one could sleep without seeing it, dream without picturing it and breath without smelling it. Every kind of torture the guards used, even things that no normal person would think of they used with pleasure, delight and smiles on their faces.
On this very night it was quiet, maybe a little too quiet. But even when no one was screaming for their lives, everyone could still hear them, the only that dead that is. Thomas could still hear his fellow men screaming, crying and begging for justice. Justice that never came. He'd seen things that have haunted his mind since the beginning of the war and all these things have come from being forced to watch.

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Lindsey spent a good potion of her day alone, dwelling on the past, things she couldn't change and things that broke her heart. But now she sat down, facing the letter that brought her to tears earlier in class with Brianna and decided to write back. To tell SPC Carter everything that was good. Things to bring him to smile and something's she needed to tell someone.
Staring down at the blank paper, she thought of all the things that's happened over the last few weeks. She needed hope just as much as the next person and that's what she'll give him, if nothing else, hope. But when her pen touched the paper, the words flowed out without much thought and she couldn't stop what she wrote. Didn't dare reread it until it was complete.

To our hero,
This may come as a shock but your letter ended up on my desk at school and I'm going to try and include all the things that have happened to everyone there. First off my name is Lindsey Howard and from