Gutted. The one word which candidly described the situation which I was based in. After a boundless four years, two-hundred and sixty-five days, the nightmare came to an abrupt end. Thrown into all sorts of countries where the native tongues sounded like dog whines to my unfamiliar ear, I was fortunate to escape the whole event with slight shrapnel wounds to my arms, and mild mental damage every soldier experiences after witnessing the gory death of another individual. Although the war severely affected the world negatively in countless aspects, one significant gain personally was the importance of priority. Throughout the entire ordeal, family was constantly on my mind, it was the place that a belonged, the place I desperately wanted to run home to... It was the one factor which prevented me from stepping into enemy bullets when times were arduous. But those times were now nothing but a mere memory. Breathing in the foreign air for one last time, I saluted the once breath-taking city of Warsaw which was now a ruined settlement filled with debris. Stepping onto the train, I took not one glance backwards, optimistic of the reception I'd receive from my family and the place I called home long ago.
"Is that your daughter?" A fellow soldier asked as he peered at my family photo clutched between my hands.
"Her name's Jayden, she turns eight next week... She's my baby," I replied,
"Wolverhampton! I repeat, Wolverhampton!" the driver called. Stepping off the bus, the outside wintry chill sent goose bumps down my back. Home, I thought with excitement! I was so close, and so eager that I simply wanted to burst into the house, though not knowing the directions prevented that from happening, so I had to catch a taxi. Finding the cab stand, I entered the first available taxi greeting the driver with the words "64 Chism Road, Wolverhampton". It was only a two minute driver, then the taxi halted in front of a simple