The next few weeks merged and faded into one. It was like Groundhog Day; every day was the same. Waking up, crying, sitting and waiting for the call to let us know our boys were coming home, but each day that passed, we all lost a slither of hope of them being found.
We all walked round in dazes, like zombies. Like passing ships in the night, barely muttering two words to each other.
We weren’t living, we were surviving. There was a difference.
We still hadn’t had an update on either of the boys, and week five was soon approaching.
I just wanted out.
I just wanted to hear that they were okay, that they were safe and just got lost.
I know that sounds silly, but it’s the only thing that kept me going. Having Robyn here helped, but she was consumed in her own grief.
After this happened, she confessed that her and Chase were together and have been since prom night. Of course I was happy, over the moon in fact, but this just crashed and burned over everything I had ever felt.
I pulled the last photo out that Conor sent me, memorizing every detail of him.
His green eyes were my favourite out of all of him.
I missed him terribly.
What I would do to hear his voice call me “baby girl.”
One last time.
CONOR
The piercing screams that were coming from the cells next to mine were horrific. I didn’t know where I was, how long I had been here, or who was here with me. I just knew it had felt like a lifetime. The days rolling into one.
The rooms were damp, dark and smelt so bad. All I cared about at this moment was getting to Chase, to survive long enough to find him.
I could hardly sleep, but the little sleep I did manage to get was plagued with nightmares. They were always the same, haunting me.
My mind flashed back to the moment it all happened. We were in the Humvee on our way back to base after a day of patrolling the civilian town. As we approached the final stretch, we were flash-banged and then tear-gassed. Every single one of us had a bag put over our head, ropes round our wrists and were thrown into a moving vehicle. We were left like that for two days, only having half the sack moved to have a sip of water before being plunged into the darkness again.
My heart had been shattered into a thousand pieces knowing that Darcey and the family had probably been told by now that we were missing in action or presumed dead. The photo I had looked after for so long had gone too. I missed seeing her beautiful smile, but she was imprinted in my brain, there was no forgetting her. The pain that was impaled through me every hour, of every day was indescribable.
Day number fuck knows.
The screams next door were getting louder and every fibre in my body knew it was Chase, but I couldn’t fucking get to him.
I tried, God I tried.
I jumped in my skin, my lifeless, dull green eyes wide when I saw a man masked up, walking towards me, a machine gun swinging round his body, his arm reaching for the sack before he threw it over my head, shouting aggressively in a language I didn’t understand as I heard more footsteps marching towards me. I was dragged up by my dirty, sweat-stained tee and forced to move with them.
My eyes darted around in the sack over my head, the tortured screams getting louder. “Conor!” I heard a blood curdling scream that sent shivers down my spine. My heart
thumped when I realised it was Chase.
“Chase!” I screamed out. “Chase, CHASE!” The veins in my neck throbbed as I strained my voice, my blood running cold when I heard a loud gunshot next to me, the screams stopping.
Fuck, no. Fuck, no. Please God, no, no, no.
I felt myself slowly dying inside. I prayed, fuck did I pray, that they didn't just shoot my best friend.
Maybe they shot the ground?
Maybe they missed?
Maybe they did it to scare me?
I heard a heavy door swing open, the men walking with me talking away, with not a clue what they were going on about.
The sun was beating down on my abused skin, instantly burning from lack of sunlight. I felt the warmth, the sunshine hurting my eyes where I had been hidden for so long in darkness.
My legs gave way as someone kicked at them as I tripped, then I was being pushed to the ground, my face hitting the hard sandy floor. I felt my nose crack, but I didn’t care. The pain inside me overtook the physical pain I was in.
The sack was removed with force from my head, my eyes darting around me to see if anyone I knew was near me, but they weren’t. It looked like we were in a run-down factory. I just couldn’t make sense of any of it.
I felt like my eyes were burning to ashes from the intense sun. I threw my arms over my face, trying to shield myself when I felt an almighty blow to my ribs, making me roll on my side before taking another boot to the ribs, then another one to my face.
Spit flew from their mouths, covering me in their saliva.
This was it.
The moment I was beaten to death.
I just hoped my letter made it to her, just hoped that she knew just how fucking much I loved her.
I would wait for her until we met again.
I was rolled over, a stranger staring down at me. All I could see were his hazel eyes as he lifted the machine gun above my head, lining it up right between my eyes.
Squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I could, he muttered something before I heard the gun shot, the pain ripping through me, then another gun shot before everything went black.
My thoughts drifted to her. She was guiding me, guiding me home.
My baby girl.
My Darcey Sawyer.
My thoughts quietened, the noise around me deafening with guns firing all around me before I gave in to my fate.
DARCEY
It had been eight months since we received the news that Conor, Chase and their entire squadron were missing.
Every day I woke up thinking that today would be the day that we heard something, to hear that they were okay, and they had all been found safe and well.
Me and Robyn moved back to our home after spending three months living at my parents, we just couldn’t leave, but we knew Conor and Chase wouldn’t want us moping around. They would want us upbeat and positive, and we were trying.
I left her a cup of tea on the side as I got ready to leave for a run, it just helped my mind quieten for a bit. I slipped my running shoes on, putting my phone in my arm sleeve as I ran down the stairs and onto the pathway, slipping my ear phones in and playing Second Hand Serenade, “Fall for you,” as it reminded me of Conor; the night of my eighteenth he was listening to it.
Spring was blooming everywhere you looked, and I just hoped that Conor and Chase could see just how beautiful it was, wherever they were.
By the time I got back, it was mid-morning. I only had afternoon classes today, and Robyn would have already left for work. I opened my front door and made my way to the shower; the sweat was dripping off of me. I walked into the main bathroom, turning the knob on the shower before walking into my bedroom and pulling out my leggings and one of Conor’s tops.
I walked over to my desk, running my finger tip along the edge of the glass box where I stored his letters. I had one more come after the one I sent. I sent one back but never had a response. I was too late.
I opened the lid of the box carefully and pulled the letter out, reading it again, trying to piece my broken heart back together.
Darcey, baby.