View attachment 3816 Shells exploded overhead and Jake Marshal dove into a near by barricade. His heart was beating so heard he feared it would explode in his chest. A black hawk, one of ours, thought Jake as it fell to the earth with black smoke trailing from its engine, resulting in a defining boom. It was a miracle that they hadn't been over run yet, trapped in a old store just over the Afghanistan border. For three days they had fought off the enemy. Jake had killed, with his rifle and with his bare hands. And now just as they were reaching the end of there ammo supply another vicious barrage of mortar rounds pelleted the ground........ Jake Marshal awoke. It had been another dream, same as the last. Six hours. Six long, bumpy, miserable hours. Jake got to the Gray hound station a little after five a.m. from the airport and now was on route towards home. He opened his eyes briefly and stared out the window. Long, empty nothingness. It was, all in all, what middle America was. The long stretches of nothing that washed away in a sea of little gas stations, truck stops, and greasy spoon restaurants. It gave a person lots of time to think, however this is one thing that Jake did not want to do this morning: Think. He had done enough of that 'Over there', from this point on in his life he just wanted to get home and erase those brutal fucking memories that he feared would haunt him until the day he died. He close his eyes again, but this time he fought sleep. He would stay awake until the bus pulled into Oak ridge, Nebraska. His home, and where his twin sister was. At about 1:30pm, the Bus pulled up to the stop as squeaky breaks announced it's arrival into the terminal. Jack grabbed his bag and got of the Bus. HE searched the sea of faces for his Sister, who he had planned on meeting with on this day. His first day home from War over seas.