Quicksand

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Quicksand Page 5

by Dyllan J. Erikson


  Mine.

  I hit print on the picture, and tap a reply before I have to go return to the fresh hell that is our base of operations, after witnessing what heaven looks like firsthand.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: Ellie Goulding

  Sweet girl,

  You’re always on my mind. And know that now I’ll be able to carry you around with me wherever I go.

  -Raid

  I hit send, wearing a smile so big it’s busting my cheeks.

  I walk out of the tent, my body feeling lighter than air, my dick still rock hard. Just a simple picture has me so hard I could quite literally pound nails.

  Just one look at this woman and I feel like my heart’s been hijacked.

  This feeling is unlike anything I have ever felt, this possessive need to make her mine and never let anyone steal her light again.

  I tuck Elli into my pocket and count the hours until I’ll be able to push everything else aside and just stare at her.

  ~Elli~

  Something just beeped.

  I open my eyes just a sliver, the light assaulting my poor retinas immediately.

  I slam them closed and hear what I can only guess as my phone beep again. I forget for two seconds I’m suffering from the worst wine hangover known to man and try to sit bolt upright hoping that it’s an email from Raiden.

  I instantly regret the rapid movement and groan, my hands coming up to cover my face. I keep my eyes closed and feel around for my phone as if I didn’t have the use of my eyes at all. My fingers bump into it wedged between the couch cushion and the face of my best friend.

  I giggle, Jen isn’t waking up anytime soon if the snoring is any indication. I settle back down on the couch next to my bestie and open my eyes only enough to see the screen, but not all the way so I have to deal with the screaming pain that is my wine hungover-ed head.

  I see an email notification so I click it, my excitement overriding how shitty I feel.

  My eyes scan through it over and over. The words ricocheting around in my head, making me feel all the feels.

  “Sweet girl…I’ll be able to carry you around with me.”

  I feel that feeling that had settled low in my belly spread its wings and fly straight into my heart, my stomach fluttering with all the good feelings I have so desperately and recklessly missed. Raiden put them there…

  I close my eyes and thoughts of Garrett suddenly assault me.

  Lately, all I can do is think about Raid, but I still have another man in my life.

  My husband.

  Tears sting the back of my eyes, and I’m glad Jen’s still sleeping because I need to process this alone.

  How do you let in someone new when you’ve been utterly consumed by someone for so long?

  Am I allowed to let myself feel like this?

  I still wear the guilt from Garrett’s death as some sort of widow shroud, will it ever lift?

  I take in a shaky breath, the tears slipping out and coating my eyelashes.

  Garrett, honey I miss you so much. The words I so desperately want to say out loud only whisper through my mind.

  I feel my heart aching at the loss of my husband once more, the crushing pain I avoided by focusing on Raiden and how he makes me feel once again holds me prisoner.

  I get up slowly and softly pad up the stairs to my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

  I curl up in the middle of the big bed and let my eyes close, wanting to talk this out to him in silence, something I should have done long before this.

  Why did you leave me?

  I let the tears come hard and fast, coming like the first downpour of a summer storm. Garrett, I don’t know how to start over.

  How do I navigate this life without you?

  Why did you go, I could’ve helped you, baby, I would’ve listened to you.

  The tears start pooling around my face in the comforter, and I shakily exhale my sorrow. You were my brave, protective guy.

  You kept me safe and warm and loved and then you left me, cold and alone. You left me mentally even before you were physically gone and that hurt. You hurt me. Garrett, why did you do this to me? Why did you leave me by myself, honey… Why can’t I have you back, what could I have done. “What could I have done…” I sob out.

  I’m so mad at you… because I have been so lost without you. Garrett, you were my anchor keeping me from floating away and then you disappeared and I floated. I floated for two years before I reached the shore until I reached the sand. Now I can’t even let myself be happy experiencing these feelings because I am still so… fucking mad at you.

  My lips tremble as I wage a silent war between myself and my dead husband’s memory, my tears coming hard and fast while the dam of feelings I try to keep in finally bursts.

  I need someone to save me, Garrett. Show me I deserve to be saved, please baby.

  A tremor rocks through my body, which I send my pleading prayer to him up in heaven, needing with all of my shattered soul to be able to know it’s okay.

  I need to know that I deserve this. That I’m not a horrible person for wanting to let go and be happy again.

  I lie there in a ball, holding myself together because I know if I let go I would break apart again and never be put back together. I hold myself because no one else is here to do it for me. I clutch my sides until my fingers ache. I breathe a little deeper, my tears coming slower now. I need to sleep, I’m so exhausted. If I sleep I don’t have to stay in this reality. I don’t have to feel this pain anymore. Maybe if I give in and let sleep take me, I can be happy again. I can only hope.

  I stay like that until I drift off to sleep, and then I dream.

  I dream it’s my wedding day again.

  I’m getting ready to meet my dad and have him walk me down the aisle, taking one last look in the mirror, I conclude that I’m stunning.

  My long curly blonde hair done to perfection, my makeup light and even more perfect. But the smile, the smile is what really catches my attention. I am so inexplicably happy that it shines through my every pore.

  I turn and walk to my dad, taking his arm and moving forward. I look down as I make it to the very beginning of the aisle, and breathe deep. Happiness radiating from me like a thousand tiny stars shining brightly.

  I keep my eyes trained down as dad walks me down the aisle until it’s finally time to look up. We come to a gentle halt and I look up, so ready to meet the eyes of my soon to be husband.

  Except when I try to meet his eyes I can’t see them.

  They aren’t my Garrett’s familiar gorgeous green orbs that are watching me take my place across from him, my hands in his. I can’t even make out his features, but I’m not upset, I am still just as radiantly happy, if not more.

  The minister says his piece as we stand there hand in hand, our families crying tears of joy and wonderment. I feel a warm light surround me as I say “I do” and a feeling of absolute calm washes over me. I beam at my almost husband, my heart swelling, full to bursting.

  I can almost feel myself smiling in my sleep, knowing I’m waking up but wanting to live in this unbridled bliss a moment longer.

  The last thing I remember before I surface is hearing Raiden’s voice saying, “I do, sweet girl, I do.”

  I open my eyes, still lying in the middle of my bed but feeling that warm blanket of calm surrounding me.

  A few tears seep out of the sides of my eyes, but this time the tears aren’t of pain and anguish. They’re tears of acceptance and gratitude.

  Gratitude to my beloved husband because even in death he gave me what I needed to take the first steps in letting go and moving on.

  ~Elli~

  I laid in the center of my huge bed for what seemed like centuries, my soul somewhere between beginning to heal and still shrouded in despair.

  I know having a dream as monumental as that should mean everything to me, but it’s hard because it does and it d
oesn’t.

  Garrett was and is still so much my whole life, but that dream felt like I should be moving forward, not stay glued to the spot in the past.

  Am I too damaged?

  I don’t even know if Raiden feels that way for me, I know that we flirt here and there but he is so far away, he could just be lonely.

  I can’t honestly believe someone would want me after all of this, all of this misery I’ve come to live in, and after everything I’ve told him, what if he wants to turn and run the other way. There’s also the fact he’s so far away from me and if I’m being honest with myself the fact he’s probably Special Ops scares the hell out of me. He hasn’t outright said it but he isn’t super forthcoming with what he is actually doing over there and it reminds me of Garrett. That means he goes dark for months too, goes into the most dangerous situations, could end up so torn up that he doesn’t want to live anymore….

  I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, letting out a big breath.

  Where do I even start?

  This hurt I’ve lived in every day for two long years has become my home. Telling Raiden about Garrett was hard but it felt good to get it off my chest.

  It’s nearly comical how I can be so totally consumed by something so horrible and damaging that it is both all I can talk about and everything I don’t want to talk about.

  I hear my door crack open just a sliver and turn my head to see a pair of hazel, bloodshot eyes staring at me curiously.

  “Hey baby girl, you doing okay in here?”

  Jen pushes the door open a little more so I can see how haggard and silly she looks, which causes a small smile to ghost my lips.

  “Come here, bestie.”

  She comes in and lies next to me, taking my hand in hers and squeezing.

  “Hey E?”

  I look at her and see nothing but solid tangible love and determination shining back at me.

  “What’s up, honey?”

  She looks at me hard and says quietly, “I know it’s gonna be hard, and I know you are not anywhere near where you need to be but you have to do this for yourself.”

  She pauses to make sure it’s sinking in, and it is. It really is.

  “You have been on the last page of your book for a long time sweetie, it’s time to write the final sentence and move on to the sequel.”

  A tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek, her own eyes shining with unshed tears as well.

  “Last night I felt my best friend coming back to me, you were so light and free, I just know you have to try babe, you have to do this on your own terms but you HAVE to do this.” She squeezes my hand one last time and just before she gets up and backs out my door says, “Going to get us hungover-ed bitches some Starbucks,” then disappears out into the hall.

  I roll back over to gaze up at the dimmed glow in the dark stars on my ceiling and wish with everything inside me that I could just let all of this go. That I knew how to fight anymore. As I’m contemplating how to get my ass into gear with becoming a whole person again, a star suddenly unsticks and lands in one of my upturned palms.

  I sit up and hold it like it’s some sort of sign, knowing this has to be some sort of cosmic push.

  I set it on my nightstand and swing my gaze to the closet.

  I cautiously walk over to it like it’s harboring some kind of ghoulish monster.

  Opening the French doors that conceal so much of my life behind them, I take a deep inhale and am instantly surrounded by him.

  I walk in, flipping on the light and gather my strength to stare at Garrett’s clothes. I run my hands over his Naval uniforms, both formal and combat. He always looked so perfectly rugged and put together all at once when he was in uniform.

  Moving on to his T-shirts and jeans, I think about all the times we would just do random things to make our home more us, getting into paint fights and hanging pictures lopsided because I was too impatient to use a level.

  I move closer to his clothes, faintly smelling his sexy smell, wishing desperately there was a hard body under the clothes that I could touch, hold on to forever. I grab a decent amount of fabric and hug it close to me, letting my eyes drift close and in a rare moment, let myself miss him like I want to. I miss him every day of my life but I don’t get to express it truly, let myself feel the enormity of missing someone who isn’t living anymore, just like last night. I’m washed away in a riptide of memories, both good and bad. The good are glorious, days where we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, our wedding day, the day we first met and how hard he pursued me until I fell in love with him. How much I missed him and despised the days he had to leave for deployment, how proud and overjoyed I was when he came home. The bad seeps in between the good, poisoning the happiness that coursed through me for only a moment. The fights, the distance, how desperate I began to feel every day. The thoughts of the love of my life were slipping away from me.

  I clutch Garrett’s clothes tighter, my fists closing hard around sleeves causing my knuckles to ache.

  Don’t think about it Elli, don’t let yourself go there.

  I do anyway, like a car wreck I’m unable not to think about it.

  Garrett’s blood.

  My gun.

  The man of my dreams lying there so lifeless.

  I let my tears fall, soaking through one of his shirts, mixing parts of us together.

  Then I get upset, I revert back to the easiest form of emotion I can find, anger.

  I stand back and feel nothing but heartbreak and anguish.

  How dare he leave me here alone!

  How dare he do this to me!

  I only see white-hot rage, I start wrenching clothing from the hangers, slinging them to the floor. I let out a frustrated scream-growl and let out all my angst on his clothes. I stand back once I’m done and take in the wreckage around me.

  I did this.

  I ripped apart his memory…

  What have I done?

  Collapsing down on the pile of Garrett’s clothing, I let myself fall to pieces once more.

  How often can I do this before someone locks me up? I know this isn’t normal or healthy. I’m fighting a goddamn ghost that won’t stop haunting me. The worst part is…I don’t want him to.

  I snuggle into the mangled pieces of my husband and let myself drift, hoping this time when I do that I won’t see the end of him, but hoping against all hope that I could understand what was happening to my Garrett even when I know it’s impossible.

  My breathing halts for a second, remembering that the whole reason why I messaged Raiden was to understand. What he’s given me isn’t gruesome sorted details of combat but he’s given me something to look forward to. Something to make my smile light up.

  I look around the wreckage and realize this wasn’t a breakdown, this was a breakthrough.

  ~Raiden~

  I’d only been sleeping for about an hour when I hear Weston mumbling somewhere to my left. My ears perk up only slightly, making sure nothing’s wrong. A habit I’ve become accustomed to, being alert no matter if you’re sleeping, awake, doesn’t matter. You have to be on your A game at every moment over here, or you end up dead. Period.

  The only problem is it sounds like West is having a bad dream. He normally doesn’t talk or mumble in his sleep but I can hear him loud and clear and it sounds like he’s warring with something in his dreams.

  I sit up slowly, rubbing my exhausted eyes and turn his way. He’s tossing around on his cot, and even from my side of the tent, I can see he’s covered in a thick sheen of sweat.

  I slip my feet into my boots and pad over to him, reaching out a tentative hand to his shoulder.

  He comes up swinging when I make contact, but thankfully I was planning on something like this so I jumped back before he hit me.

  His eyes shoot open and he turns every which way looking bewildered.

  He lets out a frustrated growl, “Raiden what the fuck?!”

  I can’t help but to scowl at him, but
quickly soothe my expression knowing he was just having a nightmare.

  “You were talking in your sleep man, you good?”

  I stare hard at him, and then soften again showing my genuine concern.

  “Yeah, yeah man, I’m good.”

  He scrubs his hands down his face and then lays back and rolls over, turning away from me.

  I go back to my own cot and sit down, my elbows on my knees, my fists propping my head up under my chin.

  I wonder what he was dreaming about, I can only guess, but I’m thinking he’s reliving something. We’ve been fortunate enough in the tours we’ve had together that we haven’t lost many of the brothers fighting along with us but that doesn’t mean we haven’t seen some heavy shit. I haven’t had many nightmares where I relive something we’ve gone through but when I do… it fucking blows. You feel helpless seeing such carnage and terror, not being able to put a stop to it, save a civilian… anything.

  That’s honestly the worst part about the nightmares, that you can’t do anything to stop it. I can’t imagine if something happened in the field and you had that weighing on your conscience, so when you dreamt, you had nightmares of that. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a brother in the same battle I’m in and I hope against hope I’ll never experience it. Like I said, we’ve been lucky. As concerned as I am for my best friend I can’t help that my thoughts turn to Elli. I slide my boots back off and lay back down on my cot, my arms going to rest behind my head, my eyes scanning the ceiling of our tent.

  I wonder if something like that happened to Garrett in the field.

  Maybe he lost one of his buddies and it weighed too heavy on his mind, couldn’t escape it. I still can’t figure out how he could leave that sweet woman behind, leave this world in such a way and have her find him.

  I close my eyes, a grimace on my face. I wish she wouldn’t have gone through that, I know it had fucked her up in the head. Not in a way that she can’t recover but I can just imagine she’s struggling with how I’ve been to her. Calling her sweet girl, flirting.

 

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