Snippet #1524159

I listened quietly. His tears brought on my own. "I'm sorry." I wanted to touch his hand or shoulder, but I wasn't sure how he would react, so I let him cry it out. When Lee stopped she said "I'm sorry."

"When I was 7 my dad went off to fight in the war in Afghanistan. He visited us during the summer and gave me this knife. He told me to stay strong, and when this blade broke, to then I was allowed to put my life aside and mourn his loss. He was alive then of course. He went back to war. I turned 8, and he died." I paused, looking at the army knife that was rusting. "It's been 11 years and this blade has not broken. I never clean it. I wait for the day it breaks, and the day it does I had planned to go to Afghanistan, and bury it with him. To show him I listened." I paused, biting my lip again, holding back tears, though one still trickled down my cheek. "I guess I won't be able to do that now, will I?" I whispered.

I looked Lee in the eye. "I'm not going to get off this island, am I, Lee?"