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

off anyone else knowing that they were here. It's not until now that she figured out where exactly they were, how easy it would be for Mr. Andrews, whom she didn't know to do something and no one would know different.
His stood by, eying their surroundings, convinced there was someone out there and they would take him away. He'd purposely stopped taking his medication, he's thought's were that the government was trying to brainwash him and the pharmaceutical companies were pushing out drugs that do more damage than good. That was he story, his big news he had to tell everyone about and it would start with this woman, standing in front of him now.
But the men, the way they were twitching, they way their eyes stared down on him, accusing him, he couldn't take it. No more. With guarded words he spoke, “the drugs the government is pushing on people is killing them. Don't you see this? Open your eyes, it's happening all around you.” He eyes jerked between them, catching sight once again of Josh and seeing something there.
“What drugs Mr. Andrews? We need names if you want this story to have any real value. The more names you give us, the better.” Amber smiled, looking him dead in the eyes, probably something she shouldn't have done but did.
“What's wrong with you boy

? Why are you looking at me that way?” He asked Josh, squaring off with him. But before he'd allow him to answer, he reached in the back of his pants, pulled out his gun and fired a shot.
Amber gasped and Eric dropped his camera to his side, disbelieving what had happened. Josh was dead behind them but neither of them turned to see, never taking their eyes off Mr. Andrews, if that's indeed what his name was, Amber thought.
Fear trembled down her spine as she watched him turn the gun on Eric and fire another shot, killing him where he laid. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” She whispered, unable to think of anything else to say to prolong him from killing her too.
He smiled at her looking her up and down, never wavering his sight away from her. The gun had only two more bullets in it and one was saved for him. There was no way he'd ever been taken seriously, he knew this and that's why he'd planned it out carefully, brought them to this isolated area, where no one would ever know or see them. They were never going to leave, he thought, smiling to himself.
The next day the front page news was all about Amber Clay, Eric Robin and Josh McCoy, how their bodies were found, how no one knew why they were where they were and evidence leading them to the man who did this. The hardest part was hearing about their daughter and how she'd been found, what had actually happened to her, thought Raymond. He'd never before thought these happened anywhere but in the battle field and never would he have thought his one and only daughter would be a victim of such a horrific crime.
Tears weld up in his eyes just by the memory of his daughter, seeing the news crew surrounding their neighbors and the pain. Marissa was sitting still, watching everything but keeping a close eye on her husband, seeing the memories flashing behind her own eyes but keeping the tears at bay. She was a strong woman and wouldn't let her husband see her fall, wouldn't let this world tear her down, wouldn't give up.

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“Tango Company move out!” Captain Dumas yelled, straightening himself, waving his hand and watching his soldiers fall in line. All their faces showed signs of wear, signs of defeat but he wouldn't let them give up, not one of his soldiers would give up, he'd make sure of this.
SPC Carter eyed the camp they were leaving, searching through the mess of soldiers for one familiar face, the one he could always count on. And just as his eye roamed over them, he remembered, his friend, his battle buddy died two days prior. Dropping his eyes back in front of him, he marched on, following close behind and back into the jungle they'd come out of days earlier, leaving behind the ones that couldn't continue.
This camp, this sanctuary as everyone called it was exactly that, the one place where Mason felt he'd truly belonged, where he'd hear word from home. And now with his back turned towards it, with leaving it behind as well, he shrugged his shoulder's and sighed. Knowing he'd not be returning here again, wretched deep in his chest. His heart faltered, his breaths sallow but he continued on without muttering a word to anyone.
Thick green vines hung low to the ground, movements slowed, eyes peeled opened and searching their surroundings. Listening in on the smallest of sounds so they wouldn't be ambushed, half a dozen men tread lightly through the densely covered jungle in search of their next mission. One that would take them further away from civilization, clear skies, fresh water and air and into enemy territory.
Even though everyone was supposed to be paying attention to their surroundings, Smith couldn't get his mind off one letter in particular, one that caught his eye and tore at his heart. Padding his shirt pocket that held that letter, safely and close to his heart, his eyes lost focus , a mistake he knew could cost him, one he'd never do again.
All the sudden shots rang out, close shots, splintering tree limbs, spraying bark around, making everyone hit the dirt, face first. Eyes wide open, searching in front, behind and all around, looking for those who were shooting, everyone that is except Carter. He was sprawled beside one of the wounded, trying his hardest to save his life. But the endless stare he saw tore into him, painful burst of heart wrenching screams escaped his lips, throwing every cuss word he could at them and not caring if they understood or not.
Gripping his pocket, he laid with his back against a tree, splinters of bark spraying in his face, he was cornered by all sides. His anger erupting, he reached out, grabbing the weapon that laid in front of him and shot wildly around, hitting spaces in between the tree and praying he'd hit of the them.

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John sat alone Monday morning in the small sized classroom and stared off, he knew that any moment students would be coming inside but his mind, he couldn't focus on anything but what had happened. Weeks have gone by and still Brianna hasn't been here, hasn't come to class and he's worried. John's tried to talk to her but she's not really there, physically she is but everything that made her who she is, is not.
He sat at his desk with Jason's letter in hand, mulling over if he should share his sons letter or keep it to himself. His fingers grazed over the lettering once more, feeling his eyes water up, he dropped the letter back in his briefcase, closing his eyes and took a deep, refreshing breath.
The door opened but he couldn't look up, not yet, not until his eyes cleared up and he could see without fear of crying.
“Sir, ah, Mr. John Thomas?”
“Yes.” He said looking up to see the uniformed military personal. Just seeing them he knew he wouldn't be able to stop the tears.
“We went to your home first but you weren't there, we have news of your son, sir. SGT Thomas, Jason, I'm sorry Sir to tell you this, here but he's been captured by the enemy. I promise you that we will do everything in our power to get him back alive.”
After John heard captured, he'd blocked the rest out, tearing a hole the size of the grand canyon out of his heart, he collapsed on the floor, breaths shallow and grabbing his chest.
Walking in the classroom was the last thing Brianna wanted to do but something was telling her she needed to. So here she was, in the hallways, walking silently by herself not daring to look at anyone directly in the eyes and afraid if she did, she'd break. But those tears didn't stay at bay for long, she opened the door and saw John laying on the floor, two uniformed military personal hovered over him, broke down her guards.
“Why did you come here? Can't you see this isn't the place for this? Don't you have a heart, can't you see what you people do hurts everyone?” She screamed at them, running over to drop on her knees and reassure John that she was there, that she would help him. No matter what happens she'll be there for him as long as he needs her, that's the least she can do, she thought. After everything he's done for her, this is the most she can do.
Her heart beat frantically in her chest, tears ran down her cheeks while she cradled John's limp body in her arms. His chest rose and fell in slow rhythm, with her hand placed upon his she made small movement to make sure he'd know she was there. Whispering words of encouragement in his ear, she bit her lip, hard and swallowed her fear as it took hold.
The military personal had told her about Jason, about being captured, but nothing more, no promises of him coming home alive, nothing. Not once did she look up from John's face while they told her this, afraid that if she did, she would definitely come unglued. There's been too many deaths here, she thought and Jason will come home alive, she screamed in her mind. Promising things she knew she'd never be able to do but none the less, she said it anyway.
An ambulance was called, Brianna didn't leave his side no matter what anyone said. She didn't care about school, friends or what anyone was saying, her main focus was on the only person who'd been there for her, her only family friend left, John.

SEVEN

Word spread like wild fire, by noon everyone knew about Jason's predicament and John's situation. Neighbors and friends a like brought food to fill his fridge, paid money to help with the medical expenses and visited him, each and everyday he was in the hospital.
John didn't speak to anyone, closing off the outside world so he could breath, to keep his hope alive that indeed his son would come home, safe and sound. Everyone that would come into his room, the looks he was given only resulted in him burying himself deeper inside, closing off the pain. They all knew what he was going through but he couldn't bring himself to think that way. Keeping positive was the key and the only thing that kept him from shutting down completely and giving up. Jason is the only family he has left and just thinking about something happening to