The Fifty Years War - R.T. Adams (lightweight ebook reader TXT) 📗

have stopped her when she stated that she was a virgin. I felt her undoing my belt only seconds later.

“Relax, just leave it all to me,” she said. There’s a problem with that. I don’t want to be a victim of rape. Just a few seconds in, I could smell the scent of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?” I asked her.

“Probably,” she said. I just sighed.

“Get off. If you’re drunk, then you just seem like an idiot, plus, you’d probably be damn sloppy,” I was more than pissed with her, but I couldn’t start a random tantrum here. She got off of me and began untying me. After she untied my hands, I untied the rest of myself, zipped my pants, and re-fastened my belt. When I looked over at her, she was already asleep. At this point, I don’t think I could sleep anymore. I exited the tent and looked around, only to find a single fire lit. I walked over and found a young woman sitting at it, staring at the fire. I walked over and noticed that it was a member of my squad, Sergeant Major Ruby Deirdre.

“Deirdre,” I said calmly. However, she didn’t respond. She must have not heard me. Just as I was about to call her name again, I heard her humming. I got closer, a few feet behind her. She was humming the tune of Chopin’s “Nocturne, Op. 9 No. 2.” Although young, she seems to have memorized it very well. Today, not many people remember the songs of Chopin, Kreisler, and the others. However, I began to think it was time to snap her out of it.

“Captain,” but before I could do anything, she said a word.

“Yes?” I replied.

“It happened again,” she said. Deirdre has been seeing strange illusions ever since she was young. It has become almost natural for her to stay up this late. as of these days, she states she sees these illusions once every week.

“I understand that you have some sort of illusions, but could you at least try to get some rest? If not that, could you put out the fire? Others are trying to sleep,” I told her.

“Understood, sir,” she said, “But there is one more song I must hum to myself.”

“I see,” I said, “Mind if I join you?” I asked.

“You may,” she scooted over. Although she was young, she was very elegant and polite, unlike plenty of younger people. Although I call her young, I’m not much older, myself. I sat next to her and stared at the fire. Soon enough, she began to hum a song. The tune of Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” The fire looked as if it danced. I had seen fire many times before, but recently, I could only see it as a monster. As of most recently, fire swarmed around and at everything, leaving nothing. After it had finished its feast, it simply smoked out. Tonight will be a peaceful night for me. Before I knew it, she was already done humming. I must have gone into my mind, letting the humming and fire take me away.

“I suppose it is time for rest,” I said.

“Then I will be off,” she said, standing, then bowing down to me. She turned and left without another word, and so did I. I walked to my tent and crawled in to find Alex still sleeping, almost like a dead body. I crawled into my sleeping bag and closed my eyes, dreaming of a dancing fire with people dancing around it to the tune of Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” Very often I wonder when this war will end.

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Publication Date: 05-31-2016

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