Sneak Peek Excerpt of Lucky Soldier
If you enjoyed Lucky Daddy then I know you’ll enjoy my other release called Here’s an exclusive sneak peek!
Today’s my homecoming; but there’s no parade arriving from the town square for me. The people in my hometown don’t even know I’m coming back. And that’s just the way I like it.
They won’t see me with an automated weapon on my back. They won’t see my red face covered only by sweat and the sand of the Middle East. They won’t see the residual fear in my eyes being hidden by a facade of bravery and heroism.
To them, I’ll just be little Rhett Atkins, all grown-up and back home for good.
No more zits or braces with missing brackets. No more spotty facial hair that was the target of many jokes from high school bullies and the occasional passerby with zero to no verbal filter.
Just fourteen hours ago, I was a good little soldier, obeying my orders, running into streets turned into battlefields hoping I could stay alive while fighting for my country’s freedom. I had nothing but freedom and worries on the mind, although that may remain the case even once my feet touch US soil again.
A decade of action prepared me for a lot, but not the anxiety of returning home from a war zone. Sure, a motivational speaker would come in every now and again to teach us new breathing exercises or steps to be more emotionally intelligent, but that only goes so far.
We were told that there would be help provided once we get back home; people who would help us transition into our new lives. My friends who went back home before me assured me that wasn’t the case.
But even as these lies were being told to us, I knew that they were leaving out the important fact that this help would only be provided if our healthcare covered it. For many of my brothers back home, that turned out not to be the case. There were long waiting lists for the so-called “help,” if it was covered at all.
I should be more grateful.
My healthcare will be able to cover a lot of the assistance I’ll be needing. I’m able to return with all my limbs still intact. I have some minor nerve damage in my right arm, but it’s nothing that half a year or so of physical therapy and some very minimal surgery won’t fix.
“Everything will be fine,” I whisper to myself over and over.
But these words have been tainted by war. I’ve repeated this phrase over and over throughout my life, but its meaning has changed now.
These are words that may no longer ring true. Still, I repeat them until they become the only words I can think about.
I wake an hour later to the sudden shock sent through my entire body, the cause of which is the airplane as its wheels make contact with the tarmac. Having been woken by such a rough landing, I find my body tensing up.
My right arm is immediately sore from having to contract so harshly. I breathe in and out and slowly relieve the muscles in my arm. Even unballing my fists hurts now.
The world around me brightens up when I set foot inside the airport, and it’s not only because of the fluorescent lights. The shift of being in a war-torn part of the world and a crowded airport is enough to give me whiplash, but it instead whips a smile on my face.
Mothers are holding hands with their kids. There are people too busy to pay attention to anything other than the phones they’re screaming into. I even see a few people trying to calm their pets before take-off.
It’s my first taste of a normal life in America and it’s exactly what someone like me needs right now.
The people pushing past me aren’t looking up at me, afraid of being shot. In fact, they’re not even looking at me. They’re too busy with their lives. I’m not a harbinger of death here. I’m just an honorably discharged United States citizen.
A wave of relief comes over me. In the throes of battle, when I wasn’t thinking of being killed and all that I’d have missed out on, I’d think of how lucky I’d be to come back home and see my folks. My dog. My old home.
I’d think of going on a road trip with my best friend Kyle, his little sister Sommer, and our other friends from back in school, seeing the best parts of the country we had spent so long protecting. We’d hit the open road and see where it took us, loving every fun minute of the entire trip.
That road trip may not be happening the way I envisioned anymore, but I do still have the opportunity to see the country now. I made it out alive when so many of my brothers in arms didn’t.
I have to live my life to the fullest for them. For Kyle. And I’m determined to do it, even though I already feel like a fish out of water; a stranger in a foreign land, even though it’s the land in which I was born and for which I’ve spent a decade fighting.