"Ro'Meave!" I hear a voice call out.

I turn around to see my general, C. Andrew Smith. But, us younger men have to call him by his title, general. He's quite the man with many morals and hardworking.

"Yes, sir?" I ask, putting my hat back on.

"Are you all right? You seem to be in a rush to get out of here. I thought you liked it here."

He's right. I do love it here. It reminds me of my father but doesn't give me the extreme guilt I have to live with. I have good friends here and people who I think of like second fathers. I grew up with these men around me.

"It's work, sir." I say with a sarcastic smile.

The general laughs, "I knew that. But... you seem in more of a rush."

"I... it's nothing, sir." I say, nervous.

"Garte, you're like a son to me. You can tell me." He says.

"It's Garroth. I don't know what's been going on, he's been crying whenever we pick him up all week." I say quietly.

"I'm sure he's fine, son." He gives me a slap on the back.

I don't like it when he calls me "son". He's not my father.

"Don't stress it, okay?" He smiles at me. "Go home, it's past time."

"Thank you, sir." I give a soft smile and walk out the door.

One of the worst feelings is having someone replace you father. I like being able to think of my general like that, but I absolutely hate the idea that my father is actually gone, and for me. I'm not even his first born son.

I get into the car and put the keys into the ignition. I sigh and turn the keys to start the car. Driving out of the driveway, it's only my instinct to check in the car seat in the backseat. Obviously, there's nothing there. I guess I just get nervous about Garroth.

But I can't stop thinking about my own father. He was gone before my eyes, like one minute he was there and the next minute, in a grave next to my mother who died in a car accident a year and a half earlier.

I was shooting in front in the battlefield. I liked being in the front, it gave me a sense of power. I knew at that point I wasn't just hiding behind a barrier. I was doing something to save my wife and my unborn child.

"Garte, what are you doing?!" I hear my father's voice asking. I see him behind me, nervous blue eyes showing.

"I'm fighting for my family. What else?" I say.

"You need to get down! You're gonna kill yourself if you don't!" He exclaims.

"If I do die it won't be in vain." I replied.

I was cold and emotionless. My family came first, but at that time I didn't understand what I meant to what family I had left. I was just fighting in Iraq, looking for something to make me whole. I was still lost by my mother's death.

"Get down, you dumbass!" My father pulled my shirt down. I collapsed onto my knees.

"Dad! What was that for?!" I asked.

"I've lost your mother and your brother, I can't lose you, too!" He says with tears barely forming at the brims of his eyes.

Ah yes, my drug addict brother, Theodore Ro'Meave. Also known as Theo. He was always the strange child, unaware of his surroundings. He became an addict when he was about fifteen and left when he was eighteen. We hadn't seen him for three years at that point.

"You haven't lost Theo!' I said.

"I may as well have! Let's fight together, okay?" He asked.

I nodded as we stood up and began to shoot in front of us. I could tell he saw something, because he looked immediately at me and pushed me down. Before I knew it, he was on his back, blood gushing out of his stomach.

"Dad!" I exclaimed.

They had taken him to the army first-aid center immediately. They kept trying to save him, but I wouldn't leave his side. Not after what he did for me.

"Garte, come here." He said, his eyes drooping, his face pale.

I was trying not to cry when I walked over to him. Only a few tears were flowing down my face. I wasn't crying hard like Zianna did when her father died.

"Don't cry, buddy." He said. "It's gonna be okay."

"How can you be sure?! You just got shot-" I began.

"Garte Joel Ro'Meave, you need to be stronger than this." He cut me off. "It will be okay."

I nodded, "O-Okay."

"I love you, so much." He said with a soft smile on his face.

"I love you too, dad..." I said.

"Tell Tobin and Theo the same thing, okay?" He said, his eyes losing a glow that he once had.

"No, dad...! You'll get to tell them, you will!" I said, beginning to freak out a little bit.

He wasn't dying, that couldn't be true.

But he did. He died within a few hours of getting shot, probably the worst few hours of my life. I felt helpless and worthless, I couldn't do anything to save it.

I notice a tear sliding down my face. I wipe it away and shake my head. It isn't worth it to cry not right now, I have other things to worry about.

I pull up to the house, take the keys out of the ignition and step out of the car. I walk up to the door and slide the keys into the door knob. I gently turn it and walk inside.

I hear a screaming baby, probably coming from upstairs. I lock the door as I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn around and see Zianna, trying to calm Garroth down. She hands him to me. I gently take him.

"He's been crying and throwing up all day, I don't know what to do." She sounds very irritated.

I chose my next words carefully. "Okay, okay, calm down. We'll get him to settle down." I turn to Garroth. "C'mon, buddy."

I change the position I'm holding him in. He calms down immediately. I walk over to the couch, doing my best to keep him in that same position as I sit down.

"Should we take him to the hospital?" Zianna asks as she hands me a glass of water.

I take a sip and shake my head. "He's not that sick."

"He's been throwing up all day! He can't even keep fluids down!" She says in panicking tone.

"Okay, okay," I put a hand on hers. "we'll take him in tomorrow if he's not getting any better."

"O-Okay.." she stutters.

"He'll be just fine. There can't be anything too bad."

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YA'LL MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE

ALMOST CHRISTMAS

YAY

Thanks for reading! Bye!
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