by mindfreakmagic » Sat Jul 20, 2013 2:40 pm
I fell face first on the bed, taking in the familiar scent of the blanket and pillows that were freshly cleaned before I arrived. I could smell the detergent and feel it's warmth on my face. I inhaled it, as it reminded me of home. Because, this was my second home. I turned on my phone. No new messages. I placed it on my bed, then sat up on my knees and took my jacket off, only to collapse on the bed again. I wasn't tired, but I was exhausted from loneliness. If that makes any sense.
My insomnia seemed to get the best of me, especially nights were I stayed home alone. It seemed like the more I stayed secluded, the more it got worse. Problem is, not many people I know are social. I mean, there are a few, but they never seem to call. Still, I hand out my number like I'm a desperate teen looking for a boyfriend. My mind then shot back to the war. And all the blood I had to see, all the bullets I had to dodge, the measures I had to do to stay safe.. just to take pictures for crying out loud! I laid myself down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Memories of wounded, dead, and mentally disturbed soldiers flooded my mind just like it used to. The memories seemed to be burnt on my eyes, as I remember them still as vividly as when I did when I was experiencing them. I was young back then. Very young. It was my first job. I got paid really well because of the danger, and working alongside America's heroes seemed ideal to me. Now, I don't know if I would take it back. It sure would help me sleep at night. I never had this problem up until I firsthand woke up with a dead soldier beside me, covered in blood. That horrible sight was the first thing I woke up to. It's haunted my dreams when I have them, and it haunts my conscious mind too.
Last edited by
mindfreakmagic on Sat Jul 20, 2013 2:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
