TITLE: The Letter's Of A Soldier
SUMMARY: I have all your letters in a box under our bed, all still in the envelopes. I read them every night, before I go to sleep. And I pray you are safe, and that you will come back to me…
WARNING: Rated M for emotional content, no smut.
Authors Note: Possibly one of the most emotional pieces I will ever put pen to paper for. There is no smut in this story, I have rated it simply and purely for it's emotional content. The Letters Of A Soldier is about a soldier who is stationed in Iraq. It is entirely made up of letters between Emmett and Bella, and the private diary entries of the pair. I chose to write about this because it is an issue that effects probably most of the population. I am trying very hard to handle this with the upmost sensitivity, and feedback on this story is incredibly important. Please just drop me a review, to let me know how I do.
ALSO: If it's italics, it's a diary entry, if it's normal font, it's a letter.
24th January, 2010
My darling Bella -
I miss you already, and it's hard to believe that I only said goodbye to you three days ago. I'm safe at Camp Bastion, and already I want to be back at home, smelling the lasagne that you make so well. Seeing you, listening to you grumble about the day you've had teaching seventeen year olds who never listen to you and don't do their homework, making you stay late to give detention. Already I want this tour to be up, and to be back with you. Only six months, my angel, six months, and we'll be together again.
Please, don't worry too much about me. You know that this is my final tour, and after this I'm going to settle down and get an honest job - which is probably going to require your help, as I can't think of one right now. It's as sandy as ever, and there's already sand in my sleeping bag. And in my boots, my pockets, my bag. I swear, the dust is possessed, it gets in places you wouldn't think it could until you find it. Edward and Jasper send their love to you, and I found myself once again forced to wave my wedding ring under their noses. Those two have it so bad for you, it's not even real, darling. All the guys think you're beautiful, most of them having seen the picture of you I carry in the pocket of my fatigues. My entire platoon is lusting after my wife - how am I meant to feel about that? I can see you blushing whilst you read that line, and smiling, torn between embarrassment and a touch of healthy female vanity, and that damn modesty that means you'll never accept it as true. The RAF team are here tonight, and the laughter is almost constant. If you shut your eyes, and listen hard enough, you could believe we were on some beach, having a party. Think of it like that my darling, pretend I've taken a vacation.
Hows that student of yours, the one you complain about the most? Mike? Tell Black that he'd better take him in hand, and tell him and Ness that I sort of even miss them too. Also, remind Jake that if he does plan to make an honest woman of your sister, could they hold the wedding until I'm there to make inappropriate comments? Those kids at that school had best be treating you right, and I really hope Jake will sort Mike out soon, because I really don't want you to be writing to me, telling me you've been banged up for multiple assault charges.
You won't believe this, babe! Carlisle flaming Cullen is the new medical officer! You remember him, he's the one who patched you up that time we stayed on the army base for six months. I'd imagine you became fairly good friends. He says his wife Esme is moving to Forks - and Alice and Rosalie, their daughters, are going to need a babysitter. They're two and five respectively, and apparently they're angels of the first water. You remember Esme, don't you? I haven't volunteered you, don't worry, but Carlisle says if you could help Esme out occasionally, he'd be eternally grateful. You know she works as a designer? Sometimes she goes away for a day or two, never longer than that. She takes Alice and Rose as often as she can, bit sometimes it isn't appropriate. You'll love them. Apparently they'll move in on February the first, and - get this - to the house just down the street that was up for sale. If that isn't fate, I don't know what is.
What are you doing right now? I imagine you'll be cooking something divine, it's about dinner time in Britain, I think. I think Jake and Ness are round, keeping you company and making you laugh to stop you thinking. I think you're maybe watching a crap film on TV, getting in the chance to watch one without me interrupting and making rude comments about your chick flicks. Or perhaps you're alone tonight? If you're on your own, you'll be listening to music and marking essays. Making snide and sarcastic comments about them and the stupidity of some. Writing in big letters all over spelling mistakes, especially when it's a quote they would have copied from ma book. And there will always be one who's lifted it off the net, and thinks they'll get away with it. And you'll have a glass of wine. When you've done that, you'll call Renee, check in on her and Phil. Then you'll call Charlie, make sure he is eating properly. You'll have a little worry, and this weekend you'll go round with some pre-made meals, that he can put in the microwave. Then, when all that's done, you'll put the TV on, watch some comedy show that'll make you laugh, because then you won't think. You'll have a cup of de-caffe tea. Then you'll go to bed. I know you so well, babe, you can't deny it. I remember you said once that I needed to stop stalking you. I asked you to marry me instead.
I love you, Bella. I love you for eternity, and I'll love you beyond that. Keep strong, my angel.
Hugs and a million kisses,
Patrol is about to start, and I've signed off my letter to Bella. I haven't got much time, so I'll write here what I'm too scared to tell her. I'm terrified every time I go out onto patrol, thinking that this time, I won't come back. I'll never see her face again, never hear her laugh. that's the difficult bit, the scary bit. How I'd survive, anywhere, be it heaven or limbo, or whatever's on the other side, how I'd survive that without her. If these people here are right, if I am an infidel and I am going to hell, then all the fire and the pain would be manageable if I had Bella. My idea of Hell is anywhere when I know I have no hope of seeing her again. That's what I'll never tell her, so I won't worry her. I hope she knows I love her. I can't say it enough, but I hope she knows it any way. If I die, I know that they'll return all my personal belongs to her, because she's my wife and because she's the only one left now. So she'll get this diary. I wonder if she'll ever read it, if she gets it? I love her. Baby, I love you.