Light Me A Candle

Marissa,

My Love, my Darling, you are my everything. I cannot wait to return home to you at last.

An explosion. I suddenly realized I might never return home to see her after all.

The explosion came from an IED, positioned right under the transport truck in front of us. A man smashed through our windshield, letting in tongues of flame. I spun the wheel to the right, unable to see through his mangled corpse. His head was gone.

I promised you I'd be home for the birth of Allison. The General just signed my papers; I'm allowed to come home. I've been contemplating what colour we should paint her room…

The truck flipped, rolled, lay upside down in the ditch. People were running towards us; I could see them in the distance. They ran over a dusty sky, while pools of white floated on the blue ground. I looked to see my passenger, limp beside me. He had a cut on his head, my own minor in comparison. I ripped off part of my shirt and tied it around my wound. If I died, he'd die as well.

…I was thinking something like Bunny Yellow. You know that Easter colour? Perhaps Cotton Candy Pink, or Marmalade Orange. Pastels for sure.

I unbuckled, the seatbelt releasing me. I fell to the roof of the truck with a thump, my head twisted, my neck at a peculiar angle. I quickly adjusted, and crawled out of the automobile. Standing, I surveyed the damage; the trucks engine was smoking and I could see sparks coming off of it as a fire tried to start. The truck that had been in front of us – or rather, what was left – smoked a distance away. I was lucky to be alive. Maybe I would get home after all.

I turned my attention to my passenger. I unbuckled him, pulled him out, ripped my shirt again. I bandaged the wound on his head and plucked glass from his face, hands and arms. I wiped dirt off of my face and straightened; the runners were closer now. Unfortunately, I didn't think they were friendly.

Things here have been decent. The weather is horrible, and nights are lonely without you by my side. You wouldn't like it here; you'd scorn at the mess of the bunker I share with Johnny, and scold me for not always doing my laundry. But once you saw everything else, I think you'd understand.

The first one opened fire, and I ducked. He was far away enough to miss, but I wasn't taking any chances. I clicked my tongue and checked the man's pulse; dead. I was too late to save him. However, I wasn't going to pass up the chance for protection. I hefted him onto my shoulders, just in time too, as the gunmen opened fire, sending two rounds my way. I raced off, glad the General had run us through those 100 mile treks. I began following the dirt road. I could see the shimmer of airplanes in the distance, about 5 miles or so.

Alberto says hi. He's peering over my shoulder as I write this to you. He's jealous of me, because I have you for a wife. He says his wife is a mean one. I tell him every day you're as sweet as honey. So don't hit me when I get home.

I ran, my legs pumping, even as low as I was to the ground. Bullets riddled the dust behind me as I kicked it up, my combat boots thumping the ground. A snake slithered away from all the vibrations, a scorpion following suit. I was glad, because I didn't really have time for that right now.

I kept running, my lungs gasping for air, my sweat wetting my brow. It dripped into my eyes, but I ignored the stinging. I had to get to the airport, get help, or I was going to die, die, and never get home to my Marissa, my baby Allison, my Marissa…

You'll be happy to hear that I've only had a slight brush of combat. And it wasn't as scarring as you might think. The only thing that's haunted my dreams so far is you and the baby. She's beautiful, Marissa. I see her in my dreams sometimes, and she's not even born yet. I see her as a five year old, with flowing brown hair, like yours. She has my eyes. Green. I could stare into those eyes forever.

My truck exploded behind me, the engine finally having caught fire. The men behind me screamed; I risked a glance back to see two of the five still alive. And the two that still lived were the ones with the guns.

Today was not my day.

I turned back and put my head down, running for all I was worth, trying to put a large enough distance between the shooters and myself. With only the passenger's body for protection, I knew I was screwed if I didn't reach the airports gates soon.

She likes Hot Wheels more than Barbie's, and likes cars more than make-up. This might be my imagination, though, as she appears like she should be more of a girl. Because tomboys don't wear frilly and colourful dresses. A pastel dress, to be exact. It's quite nice.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat! The gun spits out bullets at my heels. I'm surprised they haven't hit me yet.

I never knew how far away the airport was. It never seemed this far away in the trucks. But then again, they move faster than a man on foot with a body on his back. I shifted the man's weight and continued to run, run, run, run… because it was either that or die.

I'm afraid I must close this letter now. But I promise I'll be home soon, Marissa.

BAM! My leg, he got my leg. With a bloody pistol. I fell to the ground with a thump.

I promise I'll help you paint Allison's room, in whatever colour you'd like.

I tried getting up. Fire burned in my leg. No, no! The men were getting closer. And they were laughing at me.

I promise to even change the diapers, no matter how stinky they may be.

I promise…

I started to cry. Tears streamed down my face. I was going to break my promises. The men were almost over me.

Light me a candle, Marissa. That way I know you're okay, and that you're still there for me.

I closed my eyes and prayed for death. It didn't come.

Yes, light me a candle, and put it in the front window. So I can see your light from miles away.

They were over top of me, laughing like hyenas, and just as cruelly.

I love you Marissa.

"I love you," I whispered. I heard the click of the gun reloading. I heard him pull the trigger.

With the purest of love,

Lawrence