As he set about the skinning and gutting process, Aaron let his mind wander back to how he ended up poaching deer in the Jefferson National Forest, as pathetic as that sounded. At least it was bow season....
The pitiful fact was he wouldn't let himself free of the past - keeping it at the forefront of his mind was his own self induced prison.
It always went back to Nags Head, a hot August night a little over 5 years ago, but he knew, deep down inside, that his destiny was cast back in Nebraska on the family farm. The decisions he made, even to this moment, were literally beat into him by his father, the poor suffering bastard that he was. But it was his fathers own lessons that left Aaron with the inability to feel sorry for himself. Or blame anyone other than himself for his fate. Now he had kids of his own, and he was the father whose nemesis was pride.
The situation in Nags Head was really only another deciding factor in the inevitable course of his life. He should have never become a cop in the first place, especially if he had truly wanted to live a quiet life. After all, he hadn't grown up being the "quiet kid", the humble child his mother had expected (wanted?) him to be. Sure, he paid his dues on the farm. He even put up with the church, for a while, if only to meet girls. Naughty little Lutheran girls that they were, Aaron smiled inwardly. How he'd come out of his teens without an STD, much less a criminal record, was beyond his comprehension. Then, following the footsteps of generations of Nebraska farmboys before him, he up and joined the Army. His dad hadn't approved, because there was "no reason for an honest man to fight some politician's wars", or something like that. Pops was probably more concerned about losing the free help he'd had since Aaron was old enough to drag a feed bag around. As for his mom... she hadn't spoken to him since she gave him a ride to Cheyenne, the beginning of his trip to basic at Ft. Leonardwood, 13 short years ago.
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