Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
I continued to wash Winter. I found the motions oddly soothing as I told my story. She seemed focused entirely on my words. She wasn’t cringing away from my touch or the water. In fact, her hands rested lightly on my chest. I rubbed her skin lightly, but mostly I just let the suds slide down her body. I didn’t want her focusing too much on my movements. Not this first time. Once she realized she could do this, I’d repeat it. Was looking forward to it.
“The only problem we had was some of the kids trying to loot. Even that wasn’t a huge problem. They were just curious, like kids will be.” I sighed. This was harder than I thought it would be. She already knew the outcome. The details shouldn’t be that difficult. “There was one group of kids. They were more aggressive than most. I’d chased them off twice that same day only to have them return. The last time, one of them set off some firecrackers. That got every last Marine in the compound to sit up and take notice. It took a second to realize it wasn’t rifle fire. The sound is distinct, but some of us were still pretty wet behind the ears.
“I caught sight of the little punk and gave chase. Naturally he ran, me yelling after him not to run. I chased him into the city, one of my buddies not far behind me. When we reached a dead end, he stopped. I told him to keep his hands where I could see them, but I said it in English. That was one thing I never respected up to that point. Most of the people there didn’t speak English. Those who did spoke it brokenly and understood it about as well.
“He turned around and put his hand inside his pocket. He started to pull it out, and all I saw was the flash of something shiny. I pulled the trigger on my rifle, and the kid jerked, then crumpled to the ground. The second he did, the object he had in his hand rolled from his palm to the sandy ground. It was a stapler he’d stolen from one of the boxes going into the offices. A fuckin’ stapler!”
“Oh, my God!” Winter looked up at me with horror in her face. “I’m so sorry, Roman.”
“Don’t be sorry for me. I killed a teenager.”
“Roman, the circumstances were awful. And you’d been taught not to think of them as kids. Right?” She closed her eyes, rubbing her cheek against my chest. “I get it. I get why you shot. If that person had pulled out a gun --”
“But he didn’t, Winter. He was just a kid. I realize sometimes sixteen isn’t a kid anymore, but it doesn’t take away the fact that I pulled the trigger. My buddy tried to get me to tell our superiors he had a gun, but I wasn’t about to do that. I’d done it. I’d killed an unarmed civilian.”
I stopped washing her, tossing the washcloth to the bench along the back wall of the shower and just pulled her into my arms before I realized what I was doing. Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch. She even slipped her arms around my neck and held me too.
“My old man was a bastard. He fucked up all the damned time. Lost his job, the boss didn’t like him. Overdrew the checking account, the bank made an error and fucked him out of the overdraft fee. Didn’t pay the house payment, Mom bought too much needless shit. Nothing was ever his fault. He never took responsibility for anything in his life. I swore to myself I’d never be like that. So when I made my report, I told it exactly like it happened.
“My CO tried to take my words out of context, to get me to word it like the kid had been brandishing a weapon earlier that day or that I’d seen him with a weapon as he ran and he must’ve ditched it while I chased him. I clarified everything. I just… shot. I saw the glint of metal when he’d pulled that damned stapler from his pocket, and I reacted.
“In the end, I got reassigned back to Quantico -- mostly because I wouldn’t let it drop. My CO told me I was being ridiculous, but also that he respected me for taking responsibility for my actions.”
“What makes you think this will make me see you differently? I can’t judge you for something that happened during war when I’ve never been there. Besides, it sounds like you had every reason to suspect that person had a gun. I think you’re lying to yourself because you are actually a person with a strong sense of morals. But you can’t beat yourself up over something like that.”