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Writing Leaving Home [G, possibly PG (Depressing)]

Lord Rannos

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This was something I actually did for school, but I wanted to get some other opinions on it.

[B][FONT=Arial][SIZE=3][CENTER]Leaving Home[/CENTER] [/SIZE] [/FONT] [/B]

[COLOR=darkred] Death. It seemed to hang in the air, sewn in like a black thread upon the green tapestry of the Nebraskan countryside. I knelt silently in front of the cross, my tears watering the grave of my mother. I had been there since dawn, without eating or resting. The pain kept me rooted to the spot, my sadness being my only sustenance.

It seemed like it had been long ago that it happened, but I knew that it had only been a week. The military plane that hit the town center still stood there, a monument to tragedy. It had been transporting some sort of unstable substance. I don?t know what was on that plane, just what it did. It decimated the entire town, leaving little more that a large pile of rubble.

I slammed my fist into the earth where my loved ones rested. It wasn?t fair! How could I be allowed to live while these others died? If I hadn?t been on that trip to France, I would have been there I could have seen my mother as death came. I could have comforted her, told her that it would be alright.

I thought I was alone with my thoughts when I felt a hand resting on my shoulder. I looked up slowly and saw my brother there. He wore his U.S. Army uniform, glittering with medals. I looked away from him back to the grave.

?We have to go, Jack. It?s getting late,? He patted me on my shoulder as he spoke, trying to support me, but it was a failed effort.

?I can?t go, Rob. I can?t abandon them.?

He grabbed my arm and gently tried to help me from where I knelt, but I shrugged off his hand.

?There?s nothing you can do, Jack. They?re gone,? he said, his voice perfectly calm.

?How can you leave them? The people we knew, the people we loved How can you be so calm? Don?t you have any emotion?? I knew the cruelness of my words, but I didn?t care. I wanted him to show that he had some feeling; some sign of loss.

?My wife was in there,Jack. My [I]wife[/I]! And you think I don?t care?? his voice was heavy with anger, and it took me back. I looked up at him, and saw in his eyes sorrow and anger. He cried also. Not visibly, not physically, but his soul cried. His very being ached with his loss.

?I?m sorry, Rob. Really. I....didn?t mean it like that.?

?I know. You were just angry," he said, quickly regaining his composure," But it?s time to go. You haven?t eaten a thing since last night.?

I looked back at the cross, my mother?s name engraved into it. I grasped both of the arms and held them for a minute, praying. If only my will was strong enough, she could come back...we could be together again, we......It was no use. There was no change, and the world remained exactly as it was before. There would be no miracle here.

I stood slowly and sighed, finally empty of all emotion. I didn?t care anymore. I just wanted to go. I walked side-by-side with my brother to the wreckage of the town gate. I hesitated, then stepped beyond it. Leaving behind those I loved, those I cherished, and those who would never be replaced.[/COLOR]
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