Every 4th of July, I sit somewhere–either in my room, or outside, or some changing variation of either. And as much as I can appreciate the 4th–the fireworks, the color, the community and the connections–I can’t help but think of the veterans who have to go through sometimes a week of this. The holiday that’s meant to celebrate the country they fought for, and yet… I doubt many of them can truly enjoy it. I don’t have any close veteran family members, but I vaguely know a few. Even I jump at the big bangs sometimes. How much harder would it be after you were thrown into war–with the gunfire. The smoke. The whistles of a missile or a bomb. The fire. The tension. The danger. After watching your closest mates die with a bang. How hard would that be to relive, year after year after year?

Not to knock the family aspects of the holiday. But I always felt the forced trauma was unfair.

Naturally, I had to write a short story about it. I wrote this on the night of the 4th, with the sound of fireworks as a constant background soundtrack. This is from Jasper’s POV, my military commander child. This is more of a contemporary AU, where he’s a little older, and war-wearied. I’ve taken creative liberties with the military aspects–if you’re military or ex-military and cringing at my war descriptions, help a gal out and drop a comment on how to truly write it (if you’re comfortable with it <3). And I’d love to hear your thoughts on veterans and the 4th–thoughts. Not debates. Let’s converse, not argue.

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Content Warnings: War, panic attack, fireworks, blood, death, mention of guns, bombs

Word Count: 820

Salute to the 4th: A Jasper Short Story

The fourth of July. The one day of the year where I regret multiple aspects of my life. Joining the army. Vowing to never drink socially. And living in an apartment by myself.

I pace in my living room. Back and forth. Left… left… left, right, left. Back and forth across the carpet.

A long whistle echoes from outside. I clench my fists, shoulders hunching in anticipation.

Bang.

I let out a sharp exhale, forcing my hands to relax.

Rock is blaring from a speaker—a meager attempt at a distraction. Coffee’s brewing in the kitchen. Because I never sleep on the 4th. I’m always a wreak the next day. The next week. And then I have to be fine until next year, cause that’s what soldiers—

Bang.

I flinch, fists flying up to my ears, before I force them back down.

Rock music. Coffee pot.

I march towards the kitchen, pulling open my cabinet and grabbing a coffee mug. My hands don’t shake, or even tremble. They’re just ice cold.

I set the mug down.

Bang. Bang. Whistle—bang.

I let out another sharp exhale, squeezing my eyes shut for a long moment.

Whistle—

“Get down!” My commander’s voice rips through the smoky air. I dive. My face hits dirt, stones smashing against my teeth, and then my world explodes.

I shake my head hard, coughing. Trying to get air back into my lungs.

Rock. Coffee.

Rock. The world is rocking.

I force my eyes open, jerking forward and grabbing the coffee pot. It’s still spluttering, a drop searing against the back of my hand as I bring the pot forward. I barely feel it, focusing harder than I should need to as I pour the black liquid into my mug. The minute it fills nearly to the top, I set the pot down, grab the mug, chug a large gulp. It sears down my throat—revival—

Bang, bang, bang—pop, bang, bang—

I choke, coffee spluttering from my lips, dripping down my chest. Hot and burning and staining my shirt.

The world around me rings. Smoke fills the air. Blood is dripping down my chin. Hot. My mouth burns, slick and numb. The world around my rings. I grab for my gun, easing onto my shoulder, eyes squinted through the smog.

Gunfire pops through the air. I flinch, diving to the ground, hand flying to my chest. Only my gun’s not there—ambush?Heat flares besides me, and I jerk to the side, struggling to breath through the noise and the ringing in my ears and the watery film over my eyes.

The rock has faded. My body is buzzing. My world is ringing.

Bang!

Someone lets out a scream, and another, and another, and another, and another—

Bang—

I cough again. The air swims before me. My chest is burning—I look down, checking for wounds, but nothing’s there—

Bang—

“Jasper!”

Someone is screaming my name. My comrade. My partner? Where are they? I search the battlefield, easing into a low crouch, rifle raised to my shoulder.

Ambush.

“Jasper? Can you hear me?”

My world is ringing. There—a flash of light. 

Bang.

The world shatters again, into dirt, and screaming, and screaming, and screaming. Pain flares across my leg and my shoulder, and I’m careening backwards. Back. Onto my back.

Not dead.

The world above me is cloudy white.

A white flag.

“Help me.” The words are smoke on my tongue.

No one is coming to save me.

The world flashes white, then dark. Then heavy. I force my eyes open again, and there’s someone crushing my chest. Eyes wide. Staring into mine. Blank. 

Dead. 

Red, sliding down their temple. Hot. Heavy. Dripping onto my forehead and cheeks.

Shouting again. I close my eyes and play dead like him.

No one is coming to save me.

“Jasper? Jasper!”

My chest is burning. My eyes are closing. My world is ringing.

“Jasper? Can you hear me? It’s me—you’re safe.” A hand presses against my shoulder, and I flinch, eyes flying open.

And there she is.

Eyes wide. Alive. Clouded grey with worry. Cloudy grey with love. She leans forward, pulling me into a gentle hug. Warm, and light, and there. Steady. “You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.” She murmurs, easing down besides me, starting to slowly rock back and forth.

I collapse into her. Gasping for breath. Hands moving to clench at her arms.

Bang, bang, pop—

Dead—

“I’m right here. You’re safe.” She whispered, slipping her hand into mine. Warm. Soft. Steady. Against cold. Rigid. Shaking. “We’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

Okay—?

“You’re right here. With me.” She pulls back, meeting my gaze. I hold hers.

Bang—

Flashes. Explosion. Dead.

“Stay here with me.” She whispers, squeezing my hand.

Anchor.

So I stay. I lean forward, and I suck in a breath, and I break.

And she stays.