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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1424141
This is a tragic narrative that is based on a true story.
Dinner was to be served at exactly 8:00pm. Mrs. Fulton was very strict about being on time so her family knew that it was in their best interest to be at her lovely two story home at precisely 7:15pm, since their normal routine was to chat and enjoy each other before they washed up and sat down to eat. This dinner was no like any other family dinner. It was special. The Fulton's first-born son was off to the Army first thinf in the morning. They were so proud of him yet Mrs. Fulton was scared at the same time. She wanted to stress her concerns to her son but opted against it, as she didn't want him to think she was intervening in his plan for his life. So she stood by him in his decision and admired him for being so brave. It was now 7:00 and some of the family had already begun to pour in waiting for a lavish dinner and quality time with the guest of honor. By 7:15, everyone had showed up and was mingling with each other in the family room. James was in the upstairs bathroom brushing his hair trying to look his best for his family. After giving himself another glance in the mirror and smiling, satisfied with his appearance he headed for the stairs. Descending down slowly as to let no one hear him coming he heard various members of his family laughing and joking. Some even expressing how proud they were of him. He thought to himself how proud he was of his decision to join the Army, then thought of how his father would have been proud of him as well. It had been 2 years now since he had died of cancer. Which was one of the reasons James was hesitant to leave his mother behind to pursue his dream. He was all she had. Yet his mother showed no concern and told him she was proud. After having her approval he knew he was doing the right thing. After all basic training would only last 8 months and he would be back. Uncle Percy noticed James preceding to the family room first and ran over to give him a bear hug and shake his hand, almost fracturing a bone, while patting him on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of him, voice booming with pride. The rest of the family gathered around saying many words of love and encouragement. Mrs. Fulton enters from the kitchen standing aback looking at her first born. Tears began to build in the wells of her eyes, as she was saddened her baby was leaving for a whole eight months. She quickly cleared her head and signaled everyone to the dining room. Dinner was served. Everyone had a good time and enjoyed the meal. After everyone's belly was full the family gathered in the family room once again. James was so happy all of his family came to see him off. There was so much love in the room. After everyone said his or her good-byes and left the house was once again quiet. James helped his mother clean the kitchen, kissed her good night, and headed to his room. He needed plenty of rest. Tomorrow was a big day. While her son was sleeping, Mrs. Fulton snuck into his room to look over him like she did when he was a child. My how the time had past. The sun rose at 5:45am; James had been up since 4:00am, excited about his journey. He doubled checked all the bags he had packed two nights before. Satisfied, he began to carry all of his things down stairs. He sat everything by the door, put his boots on, and went to find his mother. He found her outside on the porch swing. He sat down beside her, wiped the tears falling from her eyes, and kissed her cheek. She reached over and patted his leg to let him know she could cope. At precisely 6:30am a car pulled into their driveway ready to escort James to his destination. He gathered his things, placed them in the trunk of the car, and ran back up the steps to give his mother one last kiss before he left. As the car pulled away Mrs. Fulton became aware of a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ignoring it, she waved to her son and began her 8-month wait to see his handsome face again. The months flew by to her surprise and many letters came and were sent. Finally the day her baby was coming home arrived. Mrs. Fulton went to sit outside on the porch swing and enjoy the breeze patiently waiting for the time her son would arrive and tell her all about is 8 months away from her. Around 4:00 a black car pulled into their driveway. Mrs. Fulton experienced the same sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she did the day her son left. James had called her the day before to let her know he would arrive at 6:00pm. She quickly disregarded her feeling. Maybe her son wanted to surprise her. She began to smile and expected to see James step out of the car. Instead another uniformed man stepped out and began to approach her post on the porch swing with a look of dismay. He called her name to ensure she was the person to deliver the news to. Mrs. Fulton stood up from her swing and walked over slowly to face the young man. He began to explain in great detail the accident that had occurred yesterday a mere 2 hours after her last conversation with James. James had been preparing to come home and while cleaning his gun carelessly forgot to check the safety. The gun went off killing him instantly. Mrs. Fulton heard nothing but a faint voice delivering a hard blow. The young man stepped back as she shooed him away, returned to the black car and drove away. Mrs. Fulton walked back up her steps and returned to her post, swinging in her porch swing waiting for her son to come home. As she sat there swinging she thought about the lavish meal she was going to prepare for her son and hoped he like it. She slowly leaned her head out just enough to see down the road, looking for the same black car that took James away to return with him; knowing it never would.
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