Lying awake, cold, soaked in a sweat that burns the soul. Now sitting erect in bed scared looking around an empty dark room filled with only shadows from the night before. Where am I? The room now fills with dark red sand and I can’t even see my hand in front of my face. Back in uniform, armed and pumped with the will to survive. Hot air beating down with every blow upon my face, one hundred and fifty degrees, bullets whipping by my head, I scream for help but I am alone.
Stuck in my head or is this a reality? What do I have to do to get away from these feelings, a life that will never be calm, never be normal? Two hours of sleep a day, if luck strikes, you can count another hour and a half. Your eyes wear the exhaustion as blood shot. Pale skin tone, black circles of frustration accent your already zombie appearance. Stress of daily activities pound down on you with the force of sledge hammers beating iron of a blacksmith. Sparks of your old life fly out of reach, trying to grasp anything real you strike your fists to your head, nothing. Numb to it all, you can’t understand why you have reached this place. The stranger you see in the mirror every day has helped you push everyone away. So not only mentally mad, but alone too. No one around to stop the cold steel from piercing the flesh, where now a river flows, so beautiful, peaceful, finally calm. At the last second, you want to rush and tell everyone you fought, “LOOK, LOOK AT ME I AM BETTER!”
By now it’s too late, No one around to even care, what difference does it make, you are half empty after once being half full. Heading to the unknown.
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