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Then he went over there. As soon as the door of the plane opened after landing in southeast Asia he knew instantly he was in Hell. It was like walking into a blast furnace; he didn’t think anyplace on Earth got that fucking hot. Six days later he saw a soldier killed, the first of many he’d witness over the following months. The gore, the guts, the lacerated limbs. Then a mortar blew off part of his foot and ripped into his leg with sharp, hot metal, like razors. They sent him home a few weeks later to a place he barely recognized, and everything he saw was fogged by what he’d seen, by what had happened to his brother, and to himself, and by his fury and hatred and pain. And he also knew in his heart that the deaths of his parents were not unrelated to the war, either. The war had killed them too, residually.So Travis was depressed. Angry, pissed, tired, anxious and depressed. That’s where the cabin came in. Get as far away from the nightmare as he could. Fish, hunt, sit on the porch. And began to do CPR, my first sign that he was alive was when he spat out water, but his eyes remained closed. So I went in for the kiss of life but it wasn’t mean as a kiss but breathing, but as soon as my lips found his, his clung to mine his tongue invading my mouth, his mouth hard. He tasted of chlorine. His limp hands of before were nor a strong hold around my waist. At first I joined in but as my sense returned I tried to push him away, had he planned this? But he was too hard and strong my pushing did nothing but excite him, the kissing got rougher. His hand left my waist and began trailing up my wet top pulling it up. He stopped kissing me and got up. What the heck was he playing at? ‘Take your top, bra and short off’. He stood above me with a stupid menacing smirk on his face. I looked at him in disbelief, he kept looking so I complied. My fresh top from a moment ago was now soggy clinging fabric that I wanted to be rid of, my bra strap sprang back and I took it of my.
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