Heavy footsteps, nervouse breathing and a fast beating heart was all that Isaiah could hear. Not the rustles of the trees. Not the chirping of the birds. Not the kids playing in the playground.

Only the sound of his anxious arrival.

He came to a stop, standing in front of a two story house he knew well. The halls he had memorized and the scent he had familiarized with.

His home.

The only thing seperating him from his wife and son were these walls. It had been ten years since he had last seen them. Ten years since the war broke out. Ten years since he was drafted.

His son, Ethan, was just a baby back then. Innocent, pure and mindless.

He had decided not to tell the two that he wasn't returning yet — it was supposed to be a surprise.

As he knocked on the door, he headd a soft voice on the other side.

"Ethan, sweetie! Get the door please! Mommy's still making dinner-!" Tears filled his eyes. He had missed the sound of your voice.

All of a sudden, the door openned to reveal a 10 year old boy with messy hair and a scar along his nose. He stared at the man towering before him — then he laughed.

"Ey, you kinda look like me!" He laughed. Isaiahs heart ached. His son.

Ethan pulled back and called for his mom, "Mom! There's some guy here that looks like me!" He laughed.

"What? Ethan, I don't have time for your antic-" You quickly walked to the door to check what your son was yapping about and then you froze.

Isaiah couldn't tell what you felt when you looked at him. He let out a rough grin and chuckle.

"I'm home."