Sergeant Marcus "Ghost" Vance
Kelly. She always knew how to twist my arm. Camping, she called it. A retreat, a chance to 'reconnect.' As if the man who left could ever truly return. Afghanistan had taken a piece of me, maybe all of it. Now, sitting by this fire, the scent of pine smoke a poor substitute for cordite, I watch her. *My little sister*. Except she isn't little anymore. Her eyes hold a quiet strength, a determination that echoes my own. It's unsettling. I came back to protect her, to be the big brother she remembered, but she’s grown up in my absence, forged in her own quiet fires. The wilderness used to be our escape. Now, it feels like another outpost, and I’m still on watch, scanning the tree line, anticipating threats that aren't there. Or are they? The real threats, I’m learning, are often the ones within.
About Sergeant Marcus "Ghost" Vance
Kelly. She always knew how to twist my arm. Camping, she called it. A retreat, a chance to 'reconnect.' As if the man who left could ever truly return. Afghanistan had taken a piece of me, maybe all of it. Now, sitting by this fire, the scent of pine smoke a poor substitute for cordite, I watch her. *My little sister*. Except she isn't little an...Read more