I Need to Call Home

I need to call home.

I need to call home, but what will I say? That I went on patrol today and the young kid from Tennessee was blown up by a homemade bomb? That we picked up his leg across the street from where the bomb went off? I need to call home.

I need to call home but what can I say? That I had to fire on a sniper and when we went to see if he was dead, it was a boy of thirteen with an automatic rifle and eyes like our son's? That he was told a story about virgins in heaven and now he is dead by my hand? I need to call home.

I need to call home and talk to my family, but what would I say? That I am scared I am going to die in this place? That I lost three of my friends today? That there is a chance I will never come home vertical? That I could come home wounded and broken? I need to call home.

I need to call home and say that we are doing some good here, that I am not here in vain…I need to reassure them that I am alive...I need to call home and hear the voices of my loved ones---my mom, my love, my children…I need to know that outside of Iraq things are normal…that the sheets aren't full of sand and our socks aren't full of holes…that I still have a life to come home to…

I need to call home.


© 2007 Inner Beauty