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Brother From The Side
दृश्य:A marine returning home after 4+ years overseas and decided to surprise his mom,dad,3 sisters and 2 brothers at the homecoming football game which his sisters are cheering for while his brothers playing in the game
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Ethan Scott
He is a marine returning home after serving overseas. He is determined, proud, and emotional. Ethan surprises his family at a football game, feeling nostalgic and sentimental. He reflects on his childhood and the love his family has always given him. During the game, he meets a girl named Emily, who captures his attention, making him question his focus on family events.
Emily
She is the girl who catches Ethan's attention at the football game. She is curious, approachable, and charming. Emily is sitting next to Ethan during the game, sparking his interest as he gets to know her better. Although they only briefly interact, she leaves a lasting impression on Ethan, making him think about her amidst all the celebrations of his return home.
Ethan's Brothers
They are Ethan's two lively brothers who play football. Ethan has two brothers who share a strong bond with him. They are excited to see Ethan come home after his long time overseas, welcoming him back with open arms. Their presence brings back memories of Ethan's childhood, filled with playful sibling relationships and shared moments of joy and competition.
Being a marine had taught me how to keep my emotions in check, but seeing my family like this had me struggling to keep them under wraps.
I hadn’t seen my mom, dad, three sisters, and two brothers in over four years.
I’d been overseas serving my country for most of that time.
I’d decided to come home and surprise them.
Instead of showing up at the house, I’d decided to do it at the homecoming football game.
My two brothers would be playing, and my three sisters would be cheering.
It was the perfect opportunity.
As I stood on the top of the bleachers looking down at the field, I could hear the excitement of the crowd.
My brothers’ team was winning, and my sisters were doing a great job of leading the cheers.
The band started playing, and all the cheerleaders did a routine that ended with them forming a big "E" on the field since Edison High School was the Eagles.
I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to let my family know I was home.
"Attention students and faculty, we have a special surprise for everyone tonight. Not only is it homecoming, but we also have a marine returning home who surprised his family tonight.Please welcome home Lance Corporal Ethan Scott," the announcer said over the loudspeaker.
Everyone looked around trying to figure out who I was.
I stood up slowly, my uniform crisp in the autumn air.
The stadium lights shined down on my face as hundreds of heads turned my way.
My mom was the first to spot me, her hand flying to her mouth.
My sisters broke formation on the field, their pom-poms dropping to the grass.
Dad rose from his seat in the front row, gripping the railing.
My brothers stopped mid-play, helmets off, staring up at the bleachers.
The crowd fell silent for a moment before erupting in applause.
My legs felt heavy as I raised my arm in a formal salute, the motion so familiar yet different here at home.
"Ethan, is that really you?" my mom's voice trembled, tears glistening in her eyes.
"Yeah, Mom, it's me," I replied, my voice barely audible over the roaring crowd.
Dad leaned over the railing, his voice steady and full of pride, "Son, you've made us prouder than you'll ever know."
I grip the metal railing, steadying myself as I take each step down the bleachers.
My legs feel heavy, almost wooden, after standing at attention for so long.
The stadium lights cast long shadows across the aluminum steps, and I can see my family pushing through the crowd toward me.
Mom's mascara runs down her cheeks while Dad practically carries her up the steps.
My sisters, still in their blue and white uniforms, sprint past other spectators.
My brothers, helmets off and jerseys soaked with sweat, take the steps two at a time.
Twenty feet.
Ten feet.
Five.
I was finally home.
Mom reaches me first, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me into a tight embrace.
Her familiar perfume fills my nose as she sobs into my shoulder, repeating "my baby" over and over.
Dad's strong arms encircle both of us, his grip so tight it almost hurts.
My sisters crash into us from both sides, their pom-poms scratching against my uniform as they squeeze into the group hug.
My brothers, still in their football gear, complete the circle, their shoulder pads pressing uncomfortably into my back.
I close my eyes and breathe in the moment, feeling the warmth of six bodies pressed against mine, hearing their mixed laughter and crying.
For the first time in years, I felt truly at peace.
As we break apart, I notice a woman at the edge of the crowd.
She wears a dark blazer and her eyes are fixed on me.
She moves through the celebrating fans with purpose, her expression serious.
My sisters are still chattering excitedly about their cheering routines when she reaches us.
Without introducing herself, she presses a manila envelope into my hands.
"Your next mission awaits," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the stadium noise.
I glance at the envelope, then back at her, confusion and disbelief battling within me.
"Wait," I stammer, "I just got back. Can't this wait?"
Her eyes soften for a moment, but her voice remains firm, "I'm afraid not, Ethan. It's urgent."
I'm listening to Dad describe my brothers' latest touchdown when the alarm sounds.
The piercing wail cuts through the stadium noise, and I immediately recognize the pattern.
It's an attack warning.
My military training kicks in, and I scan the perimeter of the stadium.
The crowd continues to celebrate, oblivious to the threat, while I search for any signs of danger.
My youngest sister tugs on my sleeve, her eyes wide with concern.
"What's that sound?"
I force a smile and ruffle her hair.
"It's probably just a technical glitch. Don't worry about it."
Mom glances at me, a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Let's take a family photo," she suggests, pulling out her phone.
I nod, not wanting to alarm them further.
That's when I notice it - a disturbance at the entrance of the stadium.
A group of three men in dark clothing push their way through the crowd, their movements fluid and calculated.
My combat-trained senses tingle as I track their progress.
Their hands are suspiciously close to the inside of their jackets, a clear indication that they're armed.
The rest of my family continues to chat and laugh around me, but my focus remains fixed on the potential threat.
As they move closer, I notice that each man is scanning the crowd with a practiced eye, searching for a target.
I instinctively position myself between them and my family, ready to shield them from harm if necessary.
One of the men reaches into his coat, and I catch a glimpse of something metallic glinting in the stadium lights.
It's unmistakable - a weapon.
I quickly scan the surrounding area, looking for any potential cover or escape routes.
The nearest exit is thirty feet away, but it's blocked by a cluster of celebrating fans.
The bleachers offer some cover, but they're too far away to reach in time. My mother's laugh cuts through the tension as she squeezes my arm playfully.
"Come on, Ethan, let's get that photo."
She's completely oblivious to the danger closing in around us.
I tense as the men draw closer, their weapons now clearly visible beneath their jackets.
My family continues chatting behind me, but I interrupt Dad mid-sentence about the game.
"Everyone needs to move. Now."
Mom catches the edge in my voice, her smile faltering.
I guide them toward the concession stand, positioning myself between the potential threats and my loved ones.
The closest man locks eyes with me, his hand still inside his jacket.
Twenty feet away.
Fifteen.
Ten.
My combat training kicks in as I assess my options.
Five feet.
No more time for retreat.
I brace myself for the inevitable confrontation, ready to protect my family at all costs.
I scan the crowd for security guards, positioning myself between my family and the armed men.
The nearest guard stands by the concession stand, too far to hear me over the crowd noise.
I grip Mom's shoulder and tell her to take everyone inside.
She resists, confused by my sudden change in behavior.
The three men are only steps away now.
With no time left, I raise my voice and shout "Security!" as loud as I can.
The sound cuts through the stadium chatter, causing nearby fans to turn and stare.
The armed men freeze in their tracks, their hands still hovering near their weapons.
Their confident stride falters as heads turn in our direction.
Two security guards push through the crowd from the concession stand, their radios crackling with urgency.
My mother grips my arm, finally sensing the danger.
The closest armed man takes a half-step back, his eyes darting between me and the approaching guards.
More shouts echo across the stadium as additional security personnel converge on our position.
My eyes lock onto a metal pipe lying against the concession stand wall, partially hidden by a stack of cardboard boxes.
While security is still pushing through the dense crowd, I calculate my odds.
The armed men are regrouping, their hands still hovering near their weapons.
I edge sideways, positioning myself to reach the pipe without turning my back on the threats.
Dad notices my movement and grabs Mom's arm, pulling her back toward the others.
In one fluid motion, I snatch the pipe and brandish it at the closest attacker.
"Back off," I growl, my marine training taking over as I assume a defensive stance.
