Phonecalls and Shrapnel

Ofelia Ortiz: 7

Things that happen in the past oftentimes affect the way people behave in the future. Your V3 characters, like most people, have a past, and most of them have special memories from another time. Some are good, some are bad, but in some way, they've influenced your character. Within this forum, you'll be able to write out those special events to further develop your character before V3 begins!
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Chase†
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Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 10:05 pm

Phonecalls and Shrapnel

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Post by Chase† »

From the Ortiz household, little Ofelia could hear any phone ring in any part of the house. While her mother never let her answer, she would sometimes eavesdrop from outside the door of her parents' room, crouched close to the bottom of the door, ear pressed to the gap at the bottom. Most of the time, Ofelia hoped, it was her father. And one of these days, she wished almost every time the ring sounded, he would want to talk to her. Only seven years old, she spent a lot of time at home with her mother that summer. The beach was a pleasant getaway on Sundays, but Ofelia never whined about not being able to go more often.

She was fine waiting for the telephone to ring.

This particular time, Magdalena was resting on the couch as Ofelia crept up near her. She had pulled the ottoman to the couch, and rested her body on it while she laid her head on her mother's stomach. She listened to the sounds, closing her eyes, her breathing slowed down, and soon she had fallen asleep. Her mother played with Ofelia's ponytail braid, twirling it in her fingers lazily.

The sun was heating up the house quickly, Magdalena noticed as sweat began to drip from her nose and forehead. She lifted her daughter's head from her lap tenderly and set it back on the couch as she went to open the windows.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

Magdalena nearly jumped from the sound breaking the silence in the house, and she tripped over herself to get to the telephone, desperately hoping it was someone to free her from her lonely situation. Night after night she slept alone, sometimes crying, she missed her husband that much. Yet every time he was brought back to her, she felt she was seeing a new man. Someone who had been tortured for months, and who forgot how the world worked. She didn't know when she cried more, when he was home or away.

"Hey honey," she heard his voice on the other end. Hollow, at best, agitated at worse.

"Hi baby, when are you coming home?"

"I've just started this tour. It's going to be awhile, you know that."

She pushed back her urge to cry, and had to clear her throat to continue.

"O-Ofelia misses you," she spoke into the receiver.

"Tell her I miss her too, and we'll be together soon. Can I talk to her?"

"I'm sorry," Magdalena tried to lower her voice once she remembered her daughter was in the next room, "She's sleeping."

"No I'm not!"

Ofelia stood eagerly in the hallway to the kitchen, staring at her mother with the phone in her hand. Her eyes were open wide, and a giant smile was plastered on her face. He asked for her, she knew it, and she wanted to talk.

Reluctantly, Magdalena handed the phone to her daughter.

"Daddy!"

"Hey baby seal," her father sounded sad, she noticed, "how's the water?"

"I only go on Sundays."

"Why?"

"'Cause that's when we got see Auntie Natalia and Flora. That's when we're really close to the beach and I don't have to ask to be driven there."

"I see," he said solemnly, "Have you been stuck at home all day?"

"I don't mind it, Daddy, Mommy and me are just laying down, we were waiting."

"Waiting for who?" he questioned his daughter.

"Not who, Daddy. You. We wait for you to call. We miss you Daddy."

She heard the phone get slammed onto something hard, and Ofelia thought something had happened to her father, when he finally came back on the line, his voice strained.

"Listen honey," he said urgently.

"Yeah Daddy?"

"Take care of your Mom for me, take her to the beach more, okay?"

"Okay Daddy. Hey Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"If I take her to the beach, though, won't we miss your call?"

"I'll call later at night, then you won't miss me, okay?"

"Okay. I love you!"

"I love you too sweetie."

As Ofelia hung up the phone, she turned to see her mother had left the room. Magdalena had locked herself in her bedroom, in tears from what she had heard her daughter say. She pressed her hands over her mouth to try to stifle her sobs, but inevitably caved, falling to her knees on the carpet and pressing her hands against her temples.

Ofelia pressed her hand against the door, her own tears beginning to fall. Not quite understanding her mother's reason for crying, she only missed her father deeply. Her mother was heartbroken, however, because of the way she was teaching her daughter to carry on. They were both frozen from civilization months at a time, so they would be there for that one phone call. And, Magdalena realized, it was all the comfort they ever had anymore.

Jose's hand was shaking as he tried to place the phone back on the receiver. Unable to speak for about five minutes, he just stood, lip trembling, in the tent on the base. Some of the men had tried to get him to come back to his post, which was near the entrance of the base, but he shook his head and finally told them he needed a few minutes.

For a moment he stared at the phone, thinking he could call them again and tell him it was the last time he would ever leave them, he would retire and they would be a family never separated again. His little girl wouldn't have to feel imprisoned in her own home, waiting for her dad to call her.

It sounded like a light whistle, then a crash and boom rocked the whole of the base. The shrapnel bomb cut through the guards at the gate, and would have taken Jose out first had he been standing at his post. Taking a moment to be sure the shrapnel had quit flying, he exited the tent and found three of his comrades sliced apart, pieces of metal stuck into their abdomens. One had even gotten a piece in his throat, and was suffocating.

The rest of the soldiers were already beginning to get the men into the infirmary, though it wouldn't do them any good. They were as good as gone, and Jose was miraculously lucky enough to have been consumed by his daughter's words.

Obviously shaken by the ordeal, Jose stood in the infirmary as the nurses took the shrapnel from the bodies. He'd seen death before, but nothing so close as that had been. He'd never felt like he was going to die here, but had he been standing there, his usual spot that day, he'd have been on the table as well, getting shrapnel yanked out from what was left of his body.

And he'd never tell his little girl this, but she had been his hero that day.
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