Page 59 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

My mom and dad used to tape streamers and balloons onto the outside frame of my door, so when I woke up on my birthday, I would have to break through them to get out. I loved that.

I loved everything.

I haven’t even been here for a whole month yet, but it’s been the worst few weeks of my life. I’m trying to be strong, but truthfully, I hate everything about this place. I hate the smell. I hate the dirt. I hate Dwight.

And, mostly, I hate that my mom and dad died.

I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!

I drop the pencil onto the dingy brown carpet and bury my face in my bent knees.Why did this have to happen to me? It’s not fair!Silent tears soak the knees of my pants. I’m trying to be quiet so that they forget I’m here.

My back still stings from where Dwight threw me against the wall yesterday. I’m sure it’s bruised, but I don’t have a mirror to look.

My dad never hurt me. He never even spanked me. I don’t even know why Dwight got so mad at me. I didn’t do anything. I’ve been trying to be extra good, so he won’t be angry. I don’t understand it.

I can’t figure out why I’m here and not in London with Nan and Granddad. I don’t know who to ask either. When I asked Stacey if I could speak to my grandparents, she just laughed and said that no one was coming for me. It wasn’t a happy laugh but a mean one. I hadn’t realized until then that there was such a thing as a mean laugh. When my parents had laughed, their whole bodies would vibrate with happiness.

I miss happiness. It’s nonexistent here. Of course, my world is covered in heartache, but even Dwight and Stacey seem to be miserable, like all the time.

Why do they even want a child?

I have so many questions and not a single answer. I just don’t understand why any of this is happening. There are people in this world who love me.So, why am I not with them? How do I get to them? How do I get out of here?

My dad always told me that I was strong and brave, a warrior. That thought, as I’m crouched in a ball on my bedroom floor, makes me cry harder. It’s so hard to be brave when I’m so scared. But I have to be.

I know that Nan and Granddad are looking for me, and when they find me, we’ll be happy. When they find me, I won’t have to be strong anymore because they’ll take care of me. They’ll love me and keep me safe. So, I just have to be brave for a little bit—until my grandparents come.

Maybe they’ll be here tomorrow. I can be brave for one more day. I can do anything for one day.

I let my body fall to the side until my face is lying on the carpet. It has a yucky smell, but it’s soft enough. My eyes close against the grimy brown material. I’m so tired, and my body’s worn out from crying.

I feel myself drifting off to sleep, and I welcome it. I hope my dreams take me someplace happy. A small smile comes to my face as I look forward to tomorrow. I feel brave and strong.

Tomorrow, they’ll come.

Tomorrow, I’ll be happy again.

Loïc

“She’s everything that I never had the courage to wish for, but for some reason, I was lucky enough to find her. Now that I’ve found her, I just hope I can keep her.”

—Loïc Berkeley

Damn it!

I bolt up to a sitting position and drag my fingers through my damp hair. I hate how long and unkempt it feels already. Absentmindedly, I drop one of my hands to my beard, which has a good half inch of growth already. In the Special Forces, we are encouraged to let our hair grow so that we’ll blend in on our missions. But let’s face it; there’s no way in hell we are blending in here. Most of the guys love it. It’s an excuse not to shave every day. It annoys me, but honestly, everything does, especially my damn nightmares that are back to being a nightly occurrence.

I’ve never been more ready for a deployment to be over, and I’m only a month in. There’s this air of unease that follows me around like a suffocating fog. I keep searching, waiting for something to happen, for a ball to drop. It’s exhausting, but I can’t shake the feeling.

Maybe this is how all guys who leave behind someone they love feel. I’ve never had to deal with the paranoia before because I’ve never left anyone I’ve loved. I trust London. I do. I believe that what we have is real. Yet I’m constantly worried that she’s going to leave me, cheat on me, get bored of waiting. Name it, and I’ve thought of it.

It’s insane—these irrational thoughts. Yet, at the same time, I’ve watched guys’ marriages fall apart while on deployment, and some of them had been married for years. It makes my seven-month relationship almost laughable. Regardless of the duration, it’s the most meaningful relationship of my life, and I can’t lose it.

I can’t lose her.

London isn’t just my end objective; she’s the entire mission. She’s my life from here on out. I never thought I would love someone the way I love her. I could never have imagined needing someone the way I need her. She’s everything I never had the courage to wish for, but for some reason, I was lucky enough to find her. Now that I’ve found her, I just hope I can keep her.

So, add my fears of losing London to the place of hopelessness and loss that enshrouds me when I wake from a nightmare, and I’m a fucking basket case.

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