In my bedroom, I neatly packed the supplies sprawled across my bed into my backpack. The bed was a small mattress squeezed into a frail bedframe, barely large enough to comfort two people. But that was what I got when I strictly spent my money on my family and refused any help my mom offered.
My camera went into my bag first, buried in the comfort of my uniform folded at the bottom. At the foot of my bed was my journal. I stared at it, and memories of Ruith peeking over my shoulder to see its contents made me strangely anxious. I kept a lot of secrets in that journal, and my mom would have access to them all one day.
The entire notebook was my farewell letter, after all.
To protect it, I tucked it beneath my pillow. The world was dangerous, and my safety was never guaranteed when I left home, so it'd be better if hidden inadequately so my mom could discover it easily. Not like she ever came into my room while I was gone anyway, but even so…
I pulled off my oxygen mask and slid the device beneath my bed. Then, I retrieved my boots from the closet across from it.
I opened my window. My escape route.
"Simon."
My breath startled. For a moment, I felt the movement of my heart jumping in my chest at the release of my mom's serene voice. It was gentle and nourishing, like rain showers in spring, while it cradled my heart.
Since taking my illness seriously, I'd rarely been home this past year and a half. I hadn't interacted with my family much unless it was to come home with groceries or money that my mom reluctantly accepted. I didn't share meals or play with my sisters when they missed me anymore.
I couldn't…because if our relationship continued to grow, leaving them behind would be so much harder.
But still…I couldn't bring myself to hop out my window the way I would any other time my mom would try to send me off. Not this time. This time, I needed her.
Her soft footfalls weighed on the creaking wood floor. She didn't speak, and I didn't know if I would prefer her to. However, she did unzip the large pocket of my backpack and place something inside. I almost panicked before remembering my uniform was buried at the bottom, where I'd have to dig to get it out.
"Be safe."
My resolve shattered, and my weak heart crumbled. My mom turned around, leaving.
For good?
"Mom, wait." I spun around, only to see she hadn't left at all. I must've imagined it.
She waited patiently for me, and her green eyes that had held onto their youthful brightness creased kindly. Guilt flooded me, pooling into my feet first, then rising through my body to drown me from within.
To her, I muttered, "I…I just wanted to say goodbye."
With a contented smile, she nodded. Dark brown hair flourished around her round face, moving in the breeze from the open window. Looking at her inspired longing memories of our past. When it'd been just her, my dad, and me. Before my stepfather came along, and my siblings, too. When I'd sleep on her lap beside the window while it rained or when she'd read to me in the public garden. I missed it all. I missed her.
My mom's eyes were curious the moment she scanned my bedroom. They found the untouched Bible on my desk. It'd been my dad's. It surprised me when my mom smiled at it, seemingly just glad it was on display and not tucked away in a junk drawer somewhere to rot.
"I'll read it," I told her just as her eyes returned to me.
Then, I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her. I had to arch slightly to settle the difference in our height and nuzzle into her neck. A gasp came from my mom, caught off guard and surprised. But she didn't hesitate to tighten her arms around me.
Her following sigh dusted content and quiet worry across my shoulder. "There must be a lot you're going through." My eyes dampened. "You're too busy taking care of us to take care of yourself."
"N-No, I can handle it—"
"Listen, honey," she interrupted tenderly. "You may be getting older, but I still notice these things. And I know that burdens can be a disease that leads someone to their grave." She pulled back, her hands still on my arms, and looked into my eyes. "This family appreciates everything you do for us. We love you. So, share your burdens and workload with us if you must. We're all willing to hold onto them with you."
If only it were that easy.
I nodded once.
"I'd rather you be here at home than wherever you go all night. This family can struggle a little if it means you'll be here. Consider that." She took my hand and placed a kiss on my knuckles.
After she left, I remained frozen by my window. It occurred to me that she hadn't believed me when I told her I worked at the flea market in the next town over. Because she still wondered where I went at night, I knew she didn't believe me.
It hadn't been a complete fabrication. I really did help out there sometimes when free clothes and toys were guaranteed for my sisters. But my mom wasn't stupid.
She knew I was up to something and was likely waiting until I put enough trust in her to confess. I trusted her. However, revealing that her son was risking his life in the military to provide for the family would only burden her with worry. So, for now, it was better to keep her guessing—keep her waiting for a confession that wouldn't come.
Wiping the dampness from my eyes, I steeled myself and went out the window into the night. There was a black car waiting for me down the street. I took the passenger's seat and began to strip.
"And what took you so long?" Nell questioned me from the driver's seat. She lived in the same town as the flea market I frequented. Although she'd insisted a hundred times we weren't friends, she still picked me up on my way to the base every now and then, sparing my pockets the bus fare.
"Sorry, I got caught up," I gave sincerely.
With a quiet scoff, she started the car, and I reached into my bag for my uniform. My hand brushed against something warm, and I pulled it out. It was a plastic container of hot food. This must've been what my mom had slipped into my bag.
I should have felt happy, but I felt like crying a little. Because even when I ignored my mom and refused her help, she still tried to take care of me in any way she could. It hurt to feel this loved. And it would hurt even more to let it go.
To occupy my mind with something else, I slipped on my uniform. A fitted tan t-shirt and military-issued cargo pants. My jacket was already in my locker at the base.
While I laced my boots, Nell sighed. "Something's bothering you, clearly."
She gazed at me through azure eyes, noticeably annoyed. The beauty mark beside her right eye, however, was too innocent, and it lessened the severity of her reactions.
I gave a lopsided frown. "What's that look for? I had some business to handle. I'm sure you didn't have to wait long."
Nell pushed a chestnut bang away from her eyes. "The general said we'd be setting out this afternoon for a conference in Nevada. I'm three hours late because you decided to forget. Or maybe you remembered and took your time because you knew he wouldn't punish you." She rolled her eyes. "General's pet can really do no wrong, can he?"
"Come on, you know I'm not like that." I sighed and ran a hand through my wild hair. "I just don't have much time left."
Nell stiffened, and I didn't miss how her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, although we hadn't started driving yet. She'd found out about my condition through military records. She had a habit of poking her nose where it didn't belong.
Despite having declared we weren't friends, she'd gone out of her way to request the help of doctors from headquarters. Every doctor had given her the same: my condition was unknown, therefore incurable.
Despite that, she had never stopped searching for me. Even if she would rather break her hand than admit it. Every state we traveled to as partners, she'd disappear for a while, leaving behind a trail of receipts to every doctor she visited.
Nell rolled down the window and pushed her hand out. "That excuse is getting old."
"I spent the day with my friend, and I guess I lost track of time. We went on a long walk, played some games, oh, and he even taught me how to—"
"Gross."
We shared a laugh at that. Well, I laughed, and she only huffed in quiet amusement.
Afterward, I added, "I know it's hopeless, but I want the opportunity to live a little more before I go. Do you think I'm deserving of that?"
Nell started on the gas, murmuring, "Who am I to decide that?"
It would take an hour to arrive at headquarters. Fortunately, I had a general who permitted my stay at home, but living at the base wasn't so bad either. All soldiers were provided with everything they needed and a bit more.
During our drive, I observed the starry night sky and crumbling earth. It really was a dessert out here. The dry wind tossed the dust of barren lands into the air and suffocated the last of the living. I felt guilty whenever we passed a family outside tending to a lawn that wouldn't grow. It was getting to be too hot to do it during the day.
And it wasn't possible to help everyone.
We arrived at base. Headquarters was a six-story, dome-style building. Training fields of various types were inside the gated territory with surrounding buildings designated for training, science, housing, education, and infirmary. With two soldiers posted at every gate entrance, no unauthorized personnel could enter.
There were alarms and traps surrounding the gates that didn't discriminate between elven and human enemies. These methods were necessary to protect the confidential information stored inside. The upper floor levels of Headquarters housed intelligence and technological offices where strategists, advisers, and California's military general united.
The Chief of the United States military was stationed in Washington D.C. with his own elite, guarding the president.
Once Nell and I were cleared to pass through the gates, we entered Headquarters and took an elevator to the second floor. The doors parted, revealing freshly vacuumed carpet floors and bright overhead lights. Naturally, it was bustling with conversation and movement. Everyone paced around, talking with members in their cubicles, tapping away at computers, or making phone calls.
Nell squeezed my shoulder and returned to the floor below to wait for me to join her. So, I walked around a bit. Then, I turned down the familiar private hallway with many closed office doors.
I strolled down the long hallway, passing the advisors that belonged to this floor. At the end of it was a pair of double doors.
"I have a meeting with the general," I directed at the pair of guards before the doors.
Recognizing me, one of them pushed open the door. It closed with a soft click behind me after I entered. Familiarity overcame me with a chill since I'd been in this office many times, and a draft passed through the room, even though the windows were closed. The office was dimly lit by the orange glow of a desk lamp. It was also too spacious for an office and practically empty, which could be unsettling to anyone else. Any minor noise could produce a rippling of echoes.
Calmly, I approached the desk at the back of the room, where General Fyodor hadn't looked up from his puzzle.
He connected a piece and sighed wearily. "I believe you take advantage of my fondness for you, private."
Indeed, he was much kinder to me than to his fleet of subordinates. I'd never understood why, but there had always been the rumor that I resembled someone the general once knew. Someone dear to him. Someone no one talked about.
It was also rumored that he'd lost a bit of his sanity after the mysterious loss. Whenever he wasn't managing the front lines, he waited quietly in his office, keeping his turbulent mind busy with puzzles.
They were just rumors, though.
"I apologize for being late, sir. Please don't assign Nell any punishment. I asked her to wait for me."
"So often, you apologize for your insubordination. Hearing it sounds insincere now."
Looking up from his puzzle with lazy green eyes, Fyodor studied me. His eyes were sharp in shape and always authoritative, but in this moment, they creased with discreet fondness.
"Have a seat at least, while you think up an excuse."
I obeyed and took the seat across his desk, scooting closer to observe the puzzle. "I was journaling and lost track of time. I'm sorry."
I lifted a stray piece of the puzzle and connected it.