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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Psychology · #1769381
A story about a disillusioned veteran, and his closest friend. A work in progress.
Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qul sunt elus. Such were the words of Abbot Amalric, prior to the killing of the beziers, during the Albigensian Crusade. But I digress. I chcked the date. 0206 on 28000614. 2800 meaning year, 06 meaning month, and 14 meaning day.
My apartment on the unnamed road wasn't very big. It was my own “camera obscura” if you will. Not much happened there. Life simply wasn't interesting any more now that my career had essentially ended a few months prior. It was a 12 year service. You join, go off to war to fight an unknown enemy, and watch others die before you, only to come home and find that everything you knew is incredibly different. 12 years I was gone, really? Choice and consequence.
My apartment was a smoky, dark chamber on the corner of a road with no name, intersecting another road that nobody of real importance ever really traveled down. The days ran into the next. For some reason my power was on, but no bills came in.
Nobody ever really noticed me. I guess I was just average. I wore my military jacket, nobody really questioned me if I served or anything. Nobody really turned an eye to me down at the corner store when I went to buy cigarettes, nothing at all. Maybe that's how I liked it.
“Maybe...” Said Savik from across the room “this was how it was meant to be?” I sighed. It more than likely was meant to be this way. I don't even remember the last time Savik wasn't at my apartment. A simple man, I'm not sure if I remember how I met him. I turned around, and made my way over to my seat on one end of the room, and sat down.
“Savik, tell me something. How did we meet?” I asked quizzically. He raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it, and pondered his answer for a second.
“Eh, we've always been friends, I guess. Ever since you were a little kid. I never really was much of your friend until after your brother left.” I didn't want to talk about my brother or my father. “But I understand you don't want to talk about either of them.” I scratched my chin and looked up at Savik.
“Today is special, do you know why?” I asked him, hoping he wouldn't remember.
“13 years ago today, you enlisted, of course I know why.” Of course. Savik remembered everything. Fuck him. “There's honestly no need for ill feelings, I'm sorry if I remember things that happen such a long time ago.” He said sincerely.
“Yes, I'm sorry.” I apologized. “Let's go someplace to eat.”
“It's only 2:30 in the morning...” Savik said. It didn't matter to me, I slipped out of the front door with my jacket on.














“Is there something wrong?” Savik asked me as we walked at a normal pace down the walkways towards the plaza. The wind rippled through my hair, and caught the inside of my jacket. Why is everyone looking at me? Every single person I pass is staring at my eyes, even if they're speaking with someone. It's honestly making me nervous. “Don't pay attention to them. They're not used to seeing people come back from the war. You're one of the lucky ones. They've been doing this for months, how come now you're upset about it?” Savik sounded upset. It was him who sounded distressed, not me. “Listen, I'm not even angry.” He told me. Now I could tell he was. Savik stopped moving. His face was contorted, angry. Tears seemed to be building up in his eyes. I instantly felt upset as well, seeing Savik so angry at me.
“Savik, I don't understand.” I said to him. I really meant it. I didn't understand.
“Of course you don't fucking understand, you never do. I'm sick of you and your shit. It's almost like you've never met another human in your entire god damned life.” He told me, loud and clear. I spoke back.
“I've been gone for 12 fucking years, Sa--” He interrupted me. People were starting to really pay attention to this.
“You always play that bullshit fucking game, with the whole 12 years shit. Fuck you, we were both gone 12 years, remember? I went to war too, I went to war with you, same fucking placement, same unit, same fucking battles, you idiot!” He shouted at me. It really made me feel horrid inside. But this is what he wanted me to do. He stepped back toward the walkway railing, and turned around, looking down off the edge. It was a good two miles to the surface. Not to mention all the ships and docked vessels in the way. “Yeah, you know it, corporal. Long fucking way down, huh. Not to mention all that shit on the way down. Imagine me being a fucking bloodstain on some dome or dilapidated structure down on the surface. You would know, fucking airborne. Nowdays, there's no radio stuck to your back to call your friends for help now is the--” I cut him off, I was angry, and scared.
“Fuck you Savik, don't hold that shit against me. You know how much that shit took a toll on me, maybe you weren't the one doing drops into combat zones, but you fucking knew how it was then and there, don't do this to me Savik. Please, you're scaring me. Please.” Someone touched my shoulder. I spun around to find a younger man, about 20 or so, looking at me.
“Are you alright?” He asked me. I looked at Savik, who just stood there against the railing with his arms crossed, and an angry look on his face, looking at the man.
“Uh, yeah. We'll be fine. We'll be fine, right Savik? Won't we?” I asked, hopefully.
“Yeah.” One word, Savik uttered, embarrassed for himself. The man looked at me, a bit oddly. I guess he could tell we were sort of odd. We fought often. He went his own way, me and Savik went ours. We walked the rest of the way without speaking to one another.












“Isn't it odd how they still play such old music in this diner, Savik?” I questioned him. “I've got you under my skin” by Frank Sinatra played quietly in the background. Savik pushed around his food on his plate holding his head up, staring at the table. “Come on, Savik. I understand you were angry, but that's over with now.” He said nothing. A busboy trudged on by, and he stopped for a second to look at me. He pointed to Savik's plate.
“Are you done with this, sir?” He asked me. I looked at Savik, who paid no attention, and then to the busboy.
“Uh, no?” I said back. I made a point to remind him that Savik was sitting there. He looked at me.
“My apologies, sir.” And trudged off. I looked oddly at Savik.
“Did you just see that, Savik? People here are too weird today. I'm serious.” I whispered to him.
“You're the odd one.” Savik said. I looked at him with disgust. I'm not odd. I've just been away for too long. “Yes, yes you are.” I decided not to push the issue, Savik always had to be right. As we sat in silence, listening to Frank Sinatra's voice over the speakers, Savik began to scrawl something down onto the napkin. He handed it to me. I read it aloud, alongside Frank Sinatra's voice.
“Don't you know little fool, you never can win. Why not use your mentality, step up, wake up to reality?” I crumpled the napkin. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Savik?” I asked angrily. There's really no use in getting upset over it, though.
“You're right.” He replied to me. He got up from the booth in which we were sitting at, and left. I followed him out. Savik whistled to the tune as Sinatra sang.
“I've got you... under my skin.” The melodic lyrics dripped from the speakers. I put on my jacket as we exited the diner.
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