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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #945972
This I wrote a few years ago after I had a dream, and I woke up crying
Water quickly filled the chamber. The Captain was shouting incoherent orders as men scrambled about the submarine, trying to fulfill the tasks as fast as possible. A young man with blonde hair was kneeling in front of a tear in the wall where water was quickly filling up the ship. He mended the hole with success just in time to hear the shout that another torpedo was coming there way. He fell to the side as the submarine made a sharp turn in the water trying to avoid the bomb. The man tried to scramble to his feet, but it was hopeless. With contact, the submarine blew apart and started to sink towards the ocean floor.

“Dear…dear…wake up...It’s just a dream.” The young women opened her eyes to find her husbands loving face looking down upon her. Tears began flooding out of her eyes as pain filled her heart.
“You can’t go…” she cried as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Sweetheart, you know I don’t have a choice. I have orders. I have to go.” She wiped her eyes to gaze better in his blue ones which had a worried look on his face.
“If you go, you won’t come back,” she whispered. “Please don’t go. I love you.”
“I love you too. But I have no choice.” She felt more tears coming but she looked up and held them back.
“Then do me one favor.”
“Anything,” he said, stroking her face with his large hand. He pushed her soft blond hair behind her ear and stared deeply into her brown eyes. “You know that I love you with all my heart darling. You mean everything to me.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can live without you. I just…” she paused, trying to find the words. “Just leave me with a child.”
“What?” he asked, a little shocked. “I-I thought we talked about this. You w-wanted to wait.”
“Well, I don’t anymore. I want this child. A part of you and me.” He gave her an unsure smile, not sure what to believe.
“Really? You want this?” She sat up in bed and he followed. Turning to look at him she gently stroked his face.
“I don’t know what I was thinking before,” she whispered. “I guess I was just being selfish. I want this child.” He gleamed with joy as a tear ran down his face. He tried to speak but no words could express his emotions. She kissed him passionately as they laid down to make love one last time.

The next morning she stood on her porch watching her husband take his bags to the taxi. She sighed wrapping herself tighter in her bath robe. Even though she didn’t get any sleep after she woke from the nightmare, she felt indefatigable. Too much was on her mind to be tired. Putting his bags in the trunk of the bright yellow car, he said something to the driver and then headed back to the porch where his wife mournfully waited.
“Don’t worry darling. I’ll return to you. Nothing can keep me away.” She smiled slightly, running her hand over his brown uniform.
“I know,” she finally said, not looking at him but at his chest where she was creasing out the remaining wrinkles in his brown suite with the palm of her hand. Slowly she looked up at him. As she straitened his brown cap a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you too. Don’t worry.” He kissed her one last time before walking back to the taxi.
“I’ll write soon!” he shouted out the window as the car drove away. She collapsed on the porch, completely numb, alone in her despair.

The 16 year old boy hated his job. But his family needed the money, and since his other two older brothers were off fighting the war he was the only income at the moment. He left his bike leaning on a tree, and sighed. Glancing one more time at the address on the telegram to make sure he was at the right place, he started walking up to the house with the pealing yellow paint. Nervously, he opened the screen and knocked on the door waiting. Hearing footsteps, he straitened his uniform and tried to look natural. A beautiful young women with shoulder-length wavy blond hair opened the door Her brown eyes sparkled and she smiled. Her nose was small and perfect, and she was wearing red lipstick that drew out her thick lips. She smiled upon seeing the young messenger. Pulling open the door, she revealed her body, and he noticed that she was a few months with child.
“Good afternoon Madame. A telegram.” She opened the screen door just enough to let her hand through to grab the telegram.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, letting the screen door shut. The boy nodded, smiling, turned and walked away.
“I hope it is not a screamer,” he said under his breath. He grabbed his bike from the oak and started down the sidewalk. For a moment he thought that it wasn’t a ‘screamer, but he was wrong. The mournful cry of despair and sorrow rang through the air.
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