
Okay! Now I will attempt the third compo. Time 11.02pm. Finished, 12.15am.
Saying Goodbye
Raindrops pelted against my leather overcoat, the dreary grey sky filling the background. My butler was holding the largest umbrella in the mansion to shield me from the rain, but obviously he was not doing a very good job of it. I stared down at a gravestone of my sworn brother, Jacob P. Smith. I should have gone with him, thirty years ago. I should not have cowered upon the thought of protecting my country, whereas he embraced it.
I could easily play out every scene in my head from that fateful day. "The town mayor is calling forth all able men to meet him in the town square tomorrow morning, to lend a hand to our nation's troops in the war!" the radio blared. Back then, I was a well sculptured, dashing eighteen year old man, with the mindset of a mere lad. Jacob, twenty years my senior, was tall, lean, and wise beyond his years, something you would never spot looking into his clueless expression he had on all the time. Some say you could see the meaning of life looking into his lost, sapphire eyes. I was but a wee lad when I was placed in his care, and we developed a relationship that resembles more of long lost brothers rather than of foster father and son. When we heard the call of war, I rejected it straight away in my head, whether it was my own petty selfishness or logical fear for my own life.
That night, as we were seated eating dinner, we had an argument. “I’m young, I'm dashing, and I have my whole life ahead of me! Why should I risk it all by going to war?" I would exclaim, trying to input logic into my cowardice. I had just gotten a very lucrative job offer, one that many would kill to get. To add on, I had countless maidens swooning at the very sight of me! Why would I risk losing it all?
"Sometimes, there are just some things that will not make sense to anyone. But most of the time, these are the things that we, as men, must do. It is like a rite of passage, you could say. And throughout life, they will appear. They will appear, one by one, to test your manhood, time and time again. This is one of them, and I will proudly march onwards to the town square tomorrow in my uniform." Jacob calmly reasoned, and to this day, I do not know whether it was to answer my question or to affirm his decision to himself. He got up from his seat, and trudged towards his room. He turned the doorknob on his door, opened it slightly, before turning his head and presented me a simple question. "Answer this, would you rather slave mindlessly at your job, staying by the sides of beautiful lasses, or protect the rights of this job and the head of those beautiful lasses?" He turned his head back, entered his room and left it ajar slightly, not expecting an answer. He was right, as I sat there stunned in my seat, having my moral integrity questioned.
I did not get up early to join the small legion of soldiers in their different resplendent uniforms at the town square. Mine was still hanging in the teak wardrobe, dusty from ignorance. He had already left at dawn’s break. He had expected me to join him there at the town square, judging by a note he left, which stated "Gone to the town square" with the words "town square" double underlined. We did not even share a proper goodbye. I would soon learn that I should have, at the very least, to the person who raised me into the stunning lad I was.
I could also still remember that fateful day a few years from then. I had adjusted to life without Jacob, lending his room out to weary travellers until his return, earning a good buck and courting many a radiant beauties. I received a special package from the government that day. I sat down, and opened it like any other package, dumping its contents onto the polished oak table in front of me. There was a medal, a map, and two letters, one in the official government inking and the other enclosed within an envelope. I read the government one first, and was completely taken aback. It has stated that Jacob died protecting his fellow soldier from a gunshot, and made significant contributions to our side in the war! I knew war was perilous, but never did I really expect Jacob, someone who loved life more than anyone else, to give his life up for another! It also stated that within the package this letter was in, was a medal of honour, a map to his grave and a letter that was found on Jacob's body that stated it should be sent to this address. I picked up the medal, and read the words that would sting my heart, "Lt Jacob Pea Smith, Hero of heroes". I then proceeded to open his letter clumsily. The words he wrote made me broke down and cry, forever remaining in my mind to this day.
"Only those who risk going far, are those who can really see how far they can go. I saw it, and it was splendorous, Keith. You were not there on the day I left, but these were the words I wanted to say to you. I could tell from your words that you were afraid, afraid of losing everything that you worked hard for, and that is alright. It is okay to be afraid. I was afraid too, afraid that I would lose you. So I made up my mind to help protect our country, to help protect our loved ones. I wanted to protect you, Keith. Now that I did my part, promise me, live your life to the fullest, and don't be afraid of taking chances. Only those who dare to fail greatly are those who achieve greatly." I muttered under my breath, every word true to the letter.
"What was that, Master Keith?" my butler inquired.
"Oh, nothing. That was nothing." I responded. I regretted being blinded by my own cowardice to even give a proper goodbye to him that day. I could not even muster up enough courage to say goodbye to this wonderful man, who raised me with morals, and imparted me with the life lessons I needed to be the successful man I was today. And now, here I am, paying my dues, staring down at his gravestone, saying goodbye day, after day. I laid down a bouquet of freshly picked flowers, and as I got up to leave, I uttered," Goodbye, Jacob. See you again tomorrow."
[Keith wrote this, thanks for reading! =D]Y,
11:01 PM