Post by JAYMEZ CHANDLER CORGAN on Nov 9, 2011 18:28:05 GMT -5
» - - - - - - i can't remember when
I DIDN'T LIVE THROUGH THIS DISGUISE - - - - - - «
Footsteps were even and silent as they hit the pavement. The only sound that was obvious was the gentle jangle of his dog’s tag and the panting that accompanied it. Silence set him on edge, made him feel that someone was behind him and so this was a blessing in disguise for the older man. Despite being twenty-five, Jaymez was often mistaken for someone in their earlier twenties. He accepted it as a sort of compliment that he looked younger but in reality, he felt much older than what his age labeled him as. His body ached constantly having been used to carrying a pack that weighed more than himself back then when he fought on the front lines. Absent mindedly, he reached up to the silver dog tags that weighed heavily around his neck, clutching them within calloused hands as though he was burdened to remember his past for eternity.
They felt hot beneath his loose grip as though they threatened to sizzle a mark onto his hand to make him release his hold. This was his reminder, a reminder that he would never forget. Blue colored eyes snapped to an old vehicle as it strained to make it up the hill he was currently at the top of. The driver slammed on the gas pedal which sent a backfire that reverberated around him loudly. Eyes that had been so empty of emotion now clearly read the ones that showed fear for not him but for his team. He nearly shouted as he refused to flinch visibly to give his enemy the satisfaction of catching him off guard. He turned around him in an alarmed fashion, searching for survivors and mainly his soldiers. He spotted none and his once casually alarmed ways turn frantic within moments. He began to run, legs suddenly leaping into motion as he lunged forwards, unaware of the fact that he wasn’t back in the desert. He was safe in Ireland but his PTSD conflicted with his mind of what was real and what was fake and now this was real.
His eyes scoured for safety for somewhere he could hunker down and as he reached around him, he grappled at nothing but his jacket that hung around him made him realize that his mind had been thrown into the past.
He stopped running, his lungs heaving beneath the t-shirt that clung to his muscular form. His dark washed jeans that covered his lower torso fit him well. His steps were still silent and he took a chance to glance at his dog. Immediately he felt a wash of sorrow for him having to randomly become spurned into a sprint from out of nowhere. He knelt down, blue eyes gazing at the blue merle that panted from the short run. The three year old licked his rugged face unyieldingly, showering him with affection and clearly unfazed from the run. By the look in his dog’s bicolored eyes, it seemed that he wanted more. Jaymez was relieved and ruffled the dog’s head. ”Sorry boy,” he murmured towards him. ”One of those days I guess, eh Scout?” He smiled faintly as the dog’s tail wagged at the mention of his name, glancing back at him as though to agree.
With a sigh, Jaymez turned towards the memorial park, smiling briefly as he passed by the various people. His Blue Heeler, Scout close by and eager to be out of the small cottage he called home. They ambled along the pathway, passing by people here and there before it soon became an infrequent passerby. He heard the sounds of squealing children, giggling madly as they ran across the way and he paused for a second to watch them at play. He had always been a fan of kids and he wanted a few himself but an important part was lacking, a woman. He shook his head, hand rubbing against the back of his neck before he proceeded to walk once again. He took a seat, deciding to settle under the shade of a tree. Scout rested by his feet, head lingering on one of his shoes as he too watched the people. He enjoyed people watching, observing them as they passed by without a second glimpse. Today with the mild temperatures and sunny day was Jaymez’s turn to bask in the glory of simplicity with no company. He shook his head, reaching down to pat Scout once more before he rested against the bench. Another day of keeping to himself and nothing out of the ordinary and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
tagged » - - - - - - Gen
lots? - - - - - - « words
lyrics » - - - - - - 2ndhand serenade
brooke - - - - - - « credit
lots? - - - - - - « words
lyrics » - - - - - - 2ndhand serenade
brooke - - - - - - « credit
