@@It was almost midnight when the Jeep transporting Timothy Brown pulled into the driveway of his parents' home. It was so dark that even with the military grade headlights, it wasn't enough.
Upon hearing the car outside, his parents dropped what they were doing and ran outside. Because their son hadn't returned home at his usual time, they had grown quite worried with the passing hours.
"Timothy Brown! Where have you been?", his mother called, "Your father and I have been worried sick about you!" Ms. Brown rushed up to her son and gave him the biggest hug she could muster, tears streaming down her face.
As she pulled away, however, she noticed the 2 men in uniform behind him. Quickly, her expression changed to that of shock, growing ever more woeful. Why was her little boy being tailed home by military men this late at night? Did he get in trouble somehow?
When Ms. Brown pulled away, she turned to her husband. Mr. Brown was standing a few feet behind his wife, having already noticed his son's escort. He didn't know what to say. He obviously had to do something. His wife needed comforting and his son needed to be dealt with. But how should've go about it? What should he do? So Mr. Brown decided to clear his throat to speak, deciding to deal with the boy first.
"Son, go to your room! You're grounded.", Mr. Brown stated, "You are to go straight to your room and go to bed. Your mother or I will bring you a sandwich to your room to eat. We'll discuss your punishment in the morning. Is that understood?"
Timothy nodded slightly, too tired to verbally respond. He was staring at his feet, guiltily. He knew he himself did nothing wrong, however, he still made his parents worry about him. That was wrong.
Slowly he started walking up to the house, heading to his room. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear his parents and the military men arguing about something outside.
When plopped onto bed, he was so tired. Within seconds he fell asleep, not want to wait another second.