by Z.M. Kage
~ Erin
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Taped to the page, below Erin’s handwriting, is the engagement ring he’d given her... sawed in half... an obvious symbol of how what once was whole is now broken.
Beyond repair.
Jon is frozen. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. What did he do to deserve this?
Tears materialize out of nowhere in the corners of his eyes as he stares at the page. Through the page. He turns his attention to his right hand – home of the finger he’d used to plant kisses on Erin’s picture every night since leaving her – and wills it to move, squeeze... crush.
Summoning every ounce of self control he can muster to keep himself from sobbing uncontrollably, Jon reduces the letter to a paper ball of misery and chucks it across his room.
He grabs his flak jacket, slings it overhead, and lets the bulk crash down onto his shoulders. He fastens the Velcro straps at the sides; aggressively, angrily. He picks up his rifle, reaches for his Kevlar... but he pauses briefly before putting it on.
“Wait,” he says to himself aloud, eyes fixing on Erin’s bikini-clad photo. “You’re not coming with me today. Ever again. You’re going to burn.”
He storms across the room to an already-opened, half-eaten MRE and fishes out the book of matches that comes in every ‘Meal, Ready to Eat.’ Being a non-smoker himself, he’s finally got a use for the damn things. How ironic.
He can’t set Erin ablaze with one hand – not with matches. He needs both hands free. Pinching the photo between his teeth and clamping down hard, he separates one fire stick from the other nineteen. Moving with a purpose he strikes, watches it burn, inhales the resulting fumes and uses his one miniature torch to ignite the entire book.
Holding his fire in one hand and taking Erin out of his mouth with the other, he buries her in heat and gets all the closure he’s going to get in that moment, watching the flame swallow her whole. “Goodbye, Erin.”
