A Window Away

TW: war, gore, death

     As soon as the sun rose in the sky, Jack's eyelids rose to reveal his sparkling blue eyes . With eyes touched by the sun's morning glow, Jack's day had begun. Since he was a young boy Jack always woke up early. It was as if at his birth his parents signed a contract for his soul to the sun. As long as the sun was in the sky, Jack was awake. Jack slowly sat up in his bed and moved his legs over to hang off the edge. For the next two minutes Jack would endure the painful daily morning reminder of life. He has to remember why he woke up in his bed alone. Sometimes Jack liked to pretend she just went on another vacation  to visit her sister. However, quiet mornings like this make the loneliness of Jack's life a bit more painful. With his two minute pain penalty up, Jack arose from his cold bed and went directly to make his daily cup of black coffee. Jack did not always have his coffee like this. Before she would get him flavored creamers and caramel syrups, but now coffee like his life was bitter and bland. As he slowly drank his mug of steaming hot black coffee, Jack retreated to the front window of his house that displayed the busy morning traffic on the street in front of his house. For fifteen minutes Jack stood staring at the morning traffic cars slowly moving down the street. The beeps and breaks of all the cars filled the air, but the memory of his past consumed Jack's mind. Jack had been stuck in this lonely morning routine ever since he got out of jail a few weeks ago for a mistrial. Jack was not thinking about the year he spent in jail after the murder. He was thinking about the way his wife's body looked after he killed her. Images of her slit throat and still eyes still possessed Jack's mind. His mind was drowning in the blood of his past until the yellow flash of a school bus flashed before his eyes. Immediately his hand touched the glass of the window. "Thea"he said quietly to himself with his hand stuck to the window like birds of a feather. Jack longed to see his young daughter. However, Jack recalled what his Mother always said to him "Family sticks together like birds of a feather". He knew that his own flesh and blood would not be kept away from him long. Like seemingly all things and people in Jack's life, the bus drifted away into the traffic like a tank trailing towards the enemy on a battlefield. With his daughter out of sight and his mug out of coffee, it was time for Jack to progress through the meaningless life of an unemployed ex-criminal on parole. A typical day for the parolee of a subject included many hours of useless day time television shows. As soon as the bus was out of sight, Jack turned on the old television that probably would have worked better if there was not so much dust suffocating it. It was as if a blizzard of dust flew into Jack's small house and decided to only leave its mark on the television. For a few minutes Jack danced in between channels. He would listen to a sentence and maybe catch the title, but soon after that he clicked for the next victim. After a significant period of contemplation a sentence finally caught his attention. The image of a beautiful young blonde woman in a pink blazer and black suit coat appeared on the screen. The woman who wore almost as much makeup as a clown said “ Jack Harlwod, a fifty six year old ex marine was just released from the Mississippi State Penitentiary last Friday afternoon. His release comes after Judge Maria San Cruz declared a mistrial when reports of jury misconduct emerged. Citizens are currently protesting outside Hind County Courthouse in Jackson Mississippi. The family of the deceased victim, Linda Harworld, are said to be appalled by the mistrial and are seeking any legal routes to bring justice for her sisters murder. From outside Hinds County Courthouse…”. The scream went blurry and gravity seemed to disappear as Jack began to stumble away from the television.Jack collapsed on the hard brown couch that sat alone with his television in his living room. Suddenly the air became possessed by a ringing noise. Jack was familiar with this ring. For he has heard this ring his whole entire life. He knew exactly what it meant. Jack would wake up about twenty one hours later. He would be covered in the blood of another. In an alley right next to some bar where no one would recognize his face. “The face of a monster”, the Mississippi Times titled their hundredth article on this highly publicized case. How could a war hero, a loving father, and a nice neighbor, kill his own wife? The small city in Mississippi could not understand it. Some questioned if Jack had a mistress, but his love for Linda seems unquestionable. They had been high school sweethearts. They stayed together even through the three of Iraq. She quit her job and helped Jack heal after he was the only soldier in his troop to barely survive an attack. Their love was not hidden nor could it be denied. Jack sat on the side of the bar by the alley and started staring at the scars and burns that still stained his skin. Not only his skin, but his mind was haunted by the terrors of war. Sometimes when Jack closed his eyes he truly thought when he opened them he would be sitting in that old sandy building in Iraq again. He remembers sitting alone behind a wall in a building that no longer had a rough. Curtains with patterns of shapes and symbols blew in the wins. Jack clutched his weapon in fear. All he could do was his heavy breathing and the light sound of the blowing sand. Just a few minutes ago, when there was a roof on this building, Jack was separated from his team for this specific operation. Ash and smoke from the bomb filled the air and covered most of Jack's vision. After many moments of absolute fear of what he could not see. Jack arose and started to slowly investigate where his fellow soldier landed after the big blast. Jack walked like a well trained soldier, but his breaths of fear and shakes of stress were noticeable as his loaded rifle shook in his wet hands. After turning corners and slowly looking behind broken down walls, Jack had no luck, It was as if everyone disappeared, even the enemies. He more calmly walked to the edge of the building. He looked through the lens of his gun and saw no one in the distance. For a few minutes Jack looked around, but then he looked down. The broken down bombed burnt building had about four floors and Jack stood on the top. As Jack looked down he saw every single man from his team. Each of their bodies lay face flat on the stone ground as if they had taken turns jumping down like kids at a waterpark. How could it be? But soon Jack’s questions were answered as the sand disappeared allowing him to see his team's tanks quickly driving away into the sandy distance. Instead of his team behind the wheel, it was the enemies. The ones who had just made each of his fellow soldiers commit succeed out of fear of burning alive. When Jack went down to see if any had survived the jump he held each body by the collar and screamed the deceased's name into their face. “ Larrrrrry Goldstein. Wake up Larry, Come on Big L!” Jack exclaimed using the last drop of water in his throat that was as dry as the sand under his fingernails. On the morning he killed his wife, Jack’s wife had by accidentally left some toast in the toaster while she went into the shower. Jack, who was still in bed, woke up to beeps of the smoke detector. The constant beep was like waking up to an everlasting splash of cold water to the face. By the time Jack made it up and downstairs to the kitchen where the smoke alarm was, his wife was already on it. However, the second Jack walked into the smokey air of the kitchen, he forgot where he was. Once again in Iraq Jack clutched a gun that was not there. This time the blown out building was not empty, inside was his wife. Luckily his wife was able to put out the fire before he put her out. When Jack woke up he was no longer in Iraq. He was laying on the kitchen floor covered in the blood of his true love.