Becky s Marine part 1

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Becky s Marine part 1
The world was swimming around me. The force of the blast had blurred my vision and I could hear bells ringing. As I climbed out of the wrecked humvee, all I could see was smoke and dust. I heard the screaming of my fellow Marines and was about to begin searching for the source of the noise when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I swivelled around in the bar stool and saw Carl chuckling at me, his face turning into a slight frown as he saw the look in my eyes.

You okay? He asked in a hushed tone which was barely heard over the music.

Yeah, I m good. Though I didn t believe myself

Flashbacks again?

Is it that obvious?

Only to those who know you. Come on, we are headed to the bonfire.

Carl was my best friend of 20 years and is 5 years older than I am. We had grown up together in California and left when we both got a job at an oil refinery in the south. He was 6 feet tall and skinny as a rail, his meager 150 lbs covered in tattoos. He had been going bald for years and had taken to shaving his head every few days. Though most people wouldn t find him intimidating, he had a mean streak in him and was stronger than he looked.

My name is Andrew, I m 28 years old, stand 6 3 and weigh 200 lbs, though most of that is muscle. Growing up in California, I graduated high school in June of 2005 and by July, I was at Marine Corps boot camp in San Diego. I served for 7 years and went on 2 tours of duty, one in Iraq and 1 in Afghanistan. I was medically separated in 2012 after our convoy was hit with an IED, killing 3 of my friends and injuring me with shrapnel through my right arm. I had what the doctors called a mild case of PTSD which brought the occasional flashback as well as reactions to sudden loud noises.

Shaking myself from the dark memories of the past, I finished my beer, paid my tab and headed for the door. Carl was waiting outside by my truck with a few of our coworkers and several women. None of them really caught my eye and most had been hanging on to one of the other guys the whole night. That is until I heard a familiar voice.

Hey, wait up!

It was Becky. She was a local girl about 25 years old and was a regular to Smokey s bar, which was the best local watering hole. She was 5 5 and maybe 110 lbs sopping wet. She had long brown hair and a body that would drive any man crazy. She wore a flannel shirt, cut off jeans and her cowboy boots which made my heart skip a beat every time she walked in the room. Her past relationships had been with some pretty rough boys and I couldn t help but feel bad for her. I wanted to protect her from making bad choices again but I knew I couldn t. I wasn t my place to interfere.

Y all going to the bonfire? She asked with hope in her eyes and that sweet nsouthern drawl that melted my soul.

Yeah, hop in if your coming. I said, receiving a grin from Carl. He knew how I felt about her. We never kept secrets. She walked toward the back of the truck when Carl stopped her.

Continued here …

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