“Thank you,” I tell her.
“I haven’t had the chance to look over much of this. To be quite honest, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you for a few days. However, my job is to help you and listen to you. You tell me where you want to start. I’ll stop you if I have questions.” I’m in love with her already. Don’t ask me how I know this. Maybe it’s her non-judgmental demeanor or the clarity in her tone. I don’t know, but when I start to tell her how difficult it is for me to handle the fact that I shot a young boy, her words back to me make sense. It’s something I knew all along, but hearing it from a person who wasn’t out there, or from someone who thinks they know what’s best for me, puts a whole new perspective on my troubling mind.
“I think it’s good for you that you have some time off and stay away from the base where it’s going to remind you of the trauma you’ve endured. However, I would like to recommend you not isolate yourself from everyone. Nightmares are going to come and go, Jade, and with those nightmares comes the difficulty of sleeping.” Then she surprises me with her next request. My brain desperately tries to understand why she thinks this would help me.
“One thing I did see in your file is that you lost a brother. Would you like to talk about that at all?” I’m not sure if I do. That’s one of the reasons why I need to make peace with my parents. Why I need to feel normal before I make the drive across town to see them. My older brother Jason committed suicide almost two years ago after his second tour in Iraq. He hid his symptoms of PTSD from us all. The police found him two days later, after he took his life by jumping off a bridge. It destroyed my parents; a part of all of us died that day with Jason.
By the time I’ve left her office with another appointment for the day after tomorrow and a mild anti-anxiety prescription, I know exactly the first place I need to go to begin this journey of healing.
~~~~
“I’m here, Jason.” I am kneeling on the ground in front of my brother’s grave. There’s just enough light left on the horizon for me to see his name engraved and the words ‘Forever in our Hearts’ below his name.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long. I don’t have an excuse, and I won’t make one up. I miss you.” I trace my fingers over his name. The tears fall freely and I let them.
“I’m struggling, Jason. I need you to give me strength to get through this. You already know what happened, what I did. There’s no need for me to tell you. I love my job and what it stands for. I would kill that young boy all over again to save my team. It’s just… I can’t get the image of how young he was out of my head. It’s haunting my soul. It’s tragic and I’m scared.” My forehead goes to the cold stone and I cry. I’m so tired, weak, and drained.
I’m not sure how long I stay there with my head up against his headstone with fond memories imploring my mind. It’s dark on a warm night with a million stars in the sky by the time I gather myself and thank my brother for listening. It’s a figment of my imagination upon walking away when I hear his speech reaffirm what I already know.
“You’ll get there, Jade. The hardest part about war is the battle we have within ourselves. We struggle with it daily. For some it may never go away, but for you it will. You have to believe it, believe in yourself, believe in your country, and don’t shut people out.”
I turn my phone on the minute I get into my car, checking my messages before I leave to go see my parents. I’m surprised when there is one from Harris, and one from my roommate, and none from Kaleb. A part of me is hurt that he never called or texted to check up on me, while the other part is somewhat relieved. Maybe he’s going to give me the space I asked for and let me figure this out on my own.
I check the voicemail from Mallory first. “I’m going to kick your ass. How dare you come home and not call me first? You better call me right now, Jade Elliott, or I will snap your tiny ass in two. Call me now!” I laugh at her obnoxious behavior. The bitch knows how this shit works. Hell, her father is a retired officer from the Navy. I listen to Harris’ message through my Bluetooth as I pull out of the cemetery, eager to see my parents.