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Black Tiger's Journal
A journal with my own personal writing, stories, ideas, or random thoughts.
An unexpected visit
There will be more


There was a quick and quiet knock on my window. I grunted and covered my eyes with the crease of my arm. It grew louder and more persistent.

“Go away.” I mumbled irritated and unconcerned. I turned in the opposite direction, trying harder to tune it out. More knocking. I slammed my fist into the bed.

“Alright, dammit! I’m awake!” I turned quickly and found Jeffrey McAlister standing on the fire escape. I sighed roughly. What the hell is that man doing here! I glanced at the clock, at three in the morning no less. Stupid, worthless, god forsaken! The insults continued in the back of my mind while I quickly unlocked the window and threw it open.

“Hurry up and get in. You could cause trouble for me being out here so late and,” I glanced behind him, “with no guards.” He reddened and quickly stumbled inside, wearing his usual designer suit and tacky red, white, and blue tie. I shoved the curtains closed. I stalked over to the other side of the room and flipped the light switch on. He stood awkwardly in the middle of my room, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Touch, especially at this hour and this w-”

“Save it.” He looked up quickly, surprised. “Follow me.” I turned away and went into the kitchen with this lap dog trailing behind me. I started a pot of coffee. “I don’t want you to say another word until I have caffeine in my system. Got it?”

What the hell was so important that he had to bother me now? And here, in my own house, by himself? I analyzed his movements and possible motives. Nothing rational came to mind. Well, then. Irrational act, irrational reason. Great. Now I’m going to have to deal with whatever it is. The pot beeped and I poured myself a cup.

“Coffee?” I offered. He seemed surprised, but shook his head.

“Well then, this is a turn on things.” I started as I fixed up my coffee. “I’m not accustomed to the President making house visits.”

He smoothed out his tie. “I didn’t any other choice. You’re the only one I can turn to.” There was a long pause as I stared at him, waiting.

“Good God, man. Do you need to wait for my response for something like this? Out with it. Don’t waste my time.” I glared over my coffee cup. He clenched his jaw, fighting his pride. Yeah, that’s right buddy. You learned to watch your damn arrogance on our first meeting didn’t you? Don’t wear your pride when asking for someone’s help. I’m probably the only one who could get away with talking to him like that. I guess one could say I had him on a leash.

“Well, I…” He started to grumble, then stopped. I started to rap my fingers against my cup. He looked up, fearfully, knowing it was bad omen. Basically signaling him, ‘You better move along now. The chance of me receiving your news pleasantly is dropping like a bomb.’

He stared at the floor and took a huge shuddering breath. “My daughter is missing.” When I didn’t say anything he dared a glance at my face. It revealed nothing.

“And?”

He seemed shocked. “Jesus, woman! Have you no compassion!” He roared.

My eyes narrowed into slits. “You haven’t exactly specified what it is you are wanting me to do about it and how it happened. Do you even have proof? She could be hiding form you in a closet somewhere in that big white house of yours.” I sipped my coffee.





War memories-A soldiers account
No one knew they were coming. No one even knew they were there until the first shots were fired. They came, hidden like thieves, up the hill behind our encampment, one by one silently, their feet barely whispering across the grass. I sat with my buddies Rick, Marco, and Henry around a blazing fire just shooting the breeze. Their faces reflected a soft orange glow from the fire, lighting up their smiles. That’s when we heard.

Ticka-ticka-ticka. Bam! Bam! Bam! Instant, terrifying. Me and my buddies were up fast, smiles swiped from our faces, running and yelling with the rest of the boys to where we heard the fires. The enemy flooded us like an ocean, screaming their dog language.

People were running out of their tents, gun in hand. Me and my buddies threw ourselves into the action. I raised my gun and fired. My bullet flew as true as my country, sinking itself deep into a b*****d’s neck. Chaos swarmed around us and my comrades were shot down one by one, smoke rising and filling the air from our rifles. Soon we were all covered in soot and blood, both sides holding their own. An explosion erupted in front of me and I screamed as my uniform caught on fire. Marco was beside me in an instant.

“James!” He shouted slapping my body wildly to put out the flames. I screamed, charred flesh hanging from the bone of my arm. We all expected casualties, but no amount of debriefing, nothing I have ever felt or seen could have prepared me for this. Lights flashed in front of my eyes. I felt firm hands grab my legs and my shoulders and my sense of balance was completely thrown off as I was being carried off the battle field. My screams melted into the deafening booms of the cannon fire and quick rapports of the guns.

“James! James! I’m getting you oughta here, alright! It’s just you and me now, we’re gonna make it!” He yelled rasping. I felt another pain, deeper in my chest. My friends were dead. Hope seemed farther away. Despair. Another explosion and I flew through the air. My left side landed in the grass and all I knew was pain. I screamed for what felt like hours. I opened my eyes to flashes of black, white, green, and orange. My gaze found Marco and with the will of God I dragged myself over to him. I wished more than anything that I hadn’t. A sob escaped me, shaking my whole body down to my soul. Weakly I raised two fingers and closed his open, hollow eyes. I looked around, bodies littered the camp. I could hear the battle going on half a mile in front of me. I laid like the dead in the grass, hoping for nothing more than peace. For my soul, my friends, and my country. I drifted, slowly, deeper into the grass, my vision losing all solidarity. I couldn’t even feel the pain now, I thought distantly. Then I slept.


“James, baby, you were calling out in your sleep again.” My wife Eleanor touched my face gently.

“I’m okay now Eleanor. Really. Just an old nightmare.” I swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths. She settled back into my side, content with my answer. Her soft dozes quieted my sprinting heart, but it could not erase the faces the dead. Quietly in the night, I wept.





tiger1715
Community Member
tiger1715
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