Captain James "Hawk" Wilson gazed out at the desolate landscape, his eyes squinting against the scorching desert sun. The year was 2005, and the Iraq War raged on. Hawk's unit, the 1st Battalion, 5th Marines, had been deployed for months, facing relentless insurgency.
It was during a brief respite at Camp Fallujah that Hawk met her – Lieutenant Emily "Evie" Thompson, a striking brunette with piercing green eyes. Evie, a skilled medic, had arrived with a fresh batch of reinforcements.
Their initial encounter was awkward, Hawk stumbling over his words as Evie efficiently treated a wounded Marine. Yet, amidst the chaos, they found themselves drawn to each other.
"Hey, Lieutenant," Hawk said, lingering near the medical tent. "Thanks for patching up Jenkins. He's a lucky guy."
Evie looked up, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Just doing my job, Captain."
Their conversations grew longer, stolen moments amidst the din of war. Hawk discovered Evie's quick wit, her love for literature, and her passion for medicine. As the days passed, Hawk realized he was falling deeply in love.
Evie, too, had developed feelings for the rugged captain. She admired his leadership, his compassion for his men, and the way he made her laugh amidst the horrors of war.
One sweltering evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hawk and Evie sneaked away to a secluded spot near the camp's perimeter. They sat together, watching the stars twinkle to life.
"Evie," Hawk whispered, taking her hand. "I never thought I'd find someone like you here."
Evie's eyes sparkled. "I know exactly what you mean."
Their lips met in a tender kiss, the world around them melting away.
The months that followed were a blur of patrols, firefights, and fleeting moments together. Hawk and Evie's love grew stronger, a beacon of hope amidst the devastation.
But war has no mercy.
On a fateful day in June, Hawk's unit was ambushed near Ramadi. Evie, attached to the patrol as medic, rushed to aid the wounded. Hawk watched in horror as a sniper's bullet struck Evie, sending her crashing to the ground.
"Hawk, get down!" someone yelled.
He didn't care. Hawk sprinted toward Evie, bullets whizzing past his head. He cradled her in his arms, tears streaming down his face.
"Evie, no! Please, don't leave me!"
Evie's gaze locked onto his, her voice barely audible. "James...love you..."
With those final words, Evie's eyes closed, and her body went limp.
Hawk's world shattered.
The days that followed were a haze of grief and anger. Hawk's unit rallied around him, offering what little comfort they could. But the pain ran deep.
As the memorial service concluded, Hawk stood before Evie's makeshift grave, his eyes dry but his heart heavy.
"I'll never forget you, Evie," he whispered. "You were my everything."
The war raged on, but for Hawk, the fight had lost its meaning. He went through the motions, leading his men with a numb sense of duty.
Years passed, and Hawk returned home, his soul scarred. He struggled to adjust, finding solace in the memories of Evie.
One day, while visiting the National Cemetery, Hawk stumbled upon a quote etched into a memorial stone:
"Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness."
Tears streamed down his face as he remembered Evie's smile, her laughter, and their stolen moments.
Hawk realized that even amidst war's brutality, love can flourish. Evie had shown him that.
Though she was gone, Hawk knew Evie's love remained, a beacon guiding him through the darkness.
Memories with Evie kept hawk company cause wasn't falling for another woman again
Decades later, Hawk, now retired, sat on his porch, surrounded by memories of Evie. He held a worn leather journal, its pages filled with their letters, poems, and sketches.
As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the landscape, Hawk smiled, feeling Evie's presence.
"You're still with me, Evie," he whispered. "In every beat of my heart".
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I'm the prize
Iena had always been confident, bordering on assertive. She knew her worth and wasn't afraid to show it. But when it came to relationships, she had a peculiar mindset - she believed she was the prize. It started with her high school sweetheart, Alex. He was charming, popular, and had a crush on her since freshman year. Lena was flattered, and as they started dating, she felt like the ultimate catch. Alex would often tell her how lucky he was to have her, and she lapped up the attention. As the relationship progressed, Lena began to unconsciously dictate the terms. She'd make demands, expecting Alex to comply, and when he didn't, she'd sulk. Alex, eager to please, would apologize and try to make it up to her. Lena saw this as proof that she was the prize. In college, Lena dated Ryan, a handsome and ambitious business major. He was smitten, and Lena reveled in the attention. She'd casually mention her expectations - expensive dinners, weekend getaways, and thoughtful gifts - and Ryan would deliver. When he couldn't, Lena would pout, making Ryan feel guilty for not meeting her standards. This pattern continued with each subsequent relationship. Lena's partners would try to impress her, shower her with affection, and cater to her whims. She'd criticize, correct, and control, convinced that she was the prize they were lucky to have. Then, she met Ethan. Ethan was different. He was kind, genuine, and confident in his own right. They met at a book club, bonding over their shared love of literature. Lena was drawn to his calm, introspective nature, but she still assumed the prize mentality. At first, Ethan indulged her. He'd surprise her with flowers, listen attentively to her rants, and make sacrifices to make her happy. But as the relationship deepened, Ethan began to subtly push back. He'd question Lena's demands, gently suggesting alternatives, and encouraging her to see things from his perspective. Lena was taken aback. No one had ever challenged her like this before. She felt her prize status slipping away. One evening, as they strolled through the park, Ethan shared his concerns. "Lena, I love you, but sometimes I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around you. You get upset when I don't meet your expectations, but I'm trying my best. Can't we find a balance?" Lena bristled. "What do you mean? I'm just trying to keep things interesting." Ethan's expression was soft but firm. "I understand that, but sometimes it feels like you're testing me, seeing how far I'll go to keep you happy. That's not a healthy dynamic, Lena. We're partners, not prize and winner." Lena's defenses rose. "You just don't understand. I'm worth it. I deserve to be treated like the best." Ethan looked at her with compassion. "You are worth it, Lena. But so am I. We're equal partners in this relationship. Can't we focus on building each other up, rather than constantly trying to prove ourselves?" Lena's prize mentality was shaken. No one had ever questioned her like this before. She realized that Ethan wasn't trying to diminish her worth; he was trying to elevate their relationship. For the first time, Lena saw herself through Ethan's eyes. She saw the unfair expectations, the constant demands, and the subtle manipulation. She saw that being the prize wasn't about being loved; it was about control. Lena took a deep breath and let go of her prize mentality. She began to listen more, compromise, and appreciate Ethan's efforts. Their relationship transformed, becoming a beautiful balance of give-and-take. As they sat on the couch, holding hands, Lena smiled. "Thank you, Ethan. You've shown me that being loved isn't about being the prize; it's about being equal." Ethan's eyes sparkled. "I love you, Lena. Not because you're a prize, but because you're an incredible person, worthy of love and respect." Lena's heart swelled. For the first time, she felt truly seen, truly loved - not as a prize, but as a partner.....
By Medad harryabout a year ago in Fiction
An Instruction Manual for Keeping Your Child Alive:
Author’s Note This story contains references to childhood trauma and a parent’s experience supporting a child through recovery, including moments of emotional crisis. The focus is not on graphic detail, but on a family’s survival, vigilance, and the quiet, ongoing work of caregiving.
By Stacey Mataxis Whitlow (SMW)4 days ago in Fiction
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