TITLE: Unnerving AUTHOR: Kasey RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: “They were on their way into a war, and all she could think of was back to a time she was too young to remember, when her father had charged forth into battle and retreated with his country and a million mental demons.” WRITTEN: 12 Sept, 2001 DISCLAIMERS: They don’t belong to me NOTES: Some may think this is inappropriate, to be writing about war when we ourselves are teetering on the brink of it.  But when things are spinning out of sanity, I write.  If you don’t want to read it, then don’t.  I’m not trying to offend people.  Also, this is not necessarily the same scenario as what happened yesterday.  I make no reference to that specifically.  This is just a sort of…it gave me something to occupy my mind with while I was trying NOT to watch CNN.  Please don’t be angry. In Memoriam; To those who died in the terrible tragedy yesterday, and to those who may die in future repercussions of yesterday’s events. ~*~*~*~ He didn’t think she’d eaten since it happened.  At least not more than a nibble here or there or a sandwich, all of which he insisted upon. She was scared.  Terrified.  First of what had happened; Then of it happening again; Then of what was to happen. They were on their way into a war, and all she could think of was back to a time she was too young to remember, when her father had charged forth into battle and retreated with his country and a million mental demons. Sam called her every day at lunch time and before he left work – at which point he usually asked if she wanted him there and she would say “whichever” to sound brave, but he would end up at her place anyway – to make sure she was okay, to make sure she knew he was okay. Rarely did it reassure her. He always brought food with him when he came to her apartment, in hopes that she might eat.  She never did – but he tried. There was a slight buzz about the White House because he was the only one of the Senior Staff who could logically be drafted…And even that would be a stretch.  Of course, the average age of a soldier in WWII was 26 – meaning for every 18-year-old, there was a 34-year-old, and he was a year shy of that.  And he was certain the President would give him a deferment should his number come up…reclassify him…He would certainly do more good in the White House than he ever could in a foreign nation shooting at things…he had told her that time and time again. It didn’t change the fact that she was terrified at the idea of him going to war…being shot…dying in battle… Or worse yet…returning in body but never in spirit. She had never known her father before the war, she was born about two months before he left.  All she knew of before were stories, told by her mother and Uncle Jed and Uncle Noah and sometimes Josh.  But she couldn’t even imagine such a time in her father’s history, before the alcohol and the nightmares that used to wake HER up because he would scream so loudly in his sleep. She couldn’t imagine such a time in her COUNTRY’S history, such horrible things done, so many lies told… But she was living in that age, now.  Things had changed, yet nothing had changed at all. All Sam knew was that every day she called her mother and cried, trying desperately to believe that history would not repeat itself. And she cried for the lives being lost, and the horrible things going on she couldn’t bear about. But mostly, she cried out of fear of the future.  And she cried because she wasn’t sure if she would wake up alive the next morning…She felt so unsafe in her own country… It was unnerving.