Entry #3

It has been a long war. Our grizzled veteran lays down, stiffness overtaking his once youthful body. His apartment, filled with novelties of his past exploits which once gave solace to his chaotic mind were now only hollow reminders of the battles he fought.

The inevitable fatigue of a long day slowly closes his eyes. Two eyelids meet for a fleeting moment, and a vision passes through our soldiers’ mind. He recalls a recent battle, horrified by his surroundings.Two of his counterparts are being assaulted on all fronts, they are pinned down with no possibility of escape. Our soldier runs, hoping to help his friends but it is too late; they are lost in a bevvy of hostile fire.

His eyes open momentarily. His swirling mind focuses as he recalls his surroundings. The ceiling of his quiet apartment is no comfort for the horrors he has recalled. As the beast that is sleep drags his eyes shut again, he prays he shall not be faced with more visions of his past.

Again, our champion attempts to slumber. As his body lays still still his mind races. Another vision appears, another demon for his psyche to wrestle with. He is again back in the desolate plane where his mind always wanders to, where his nightmares play out. This time he is alone patrolling the long stretches searching for any sign of hostility, or perhaps more optimistically, friends come to rescue him from this hell. Turning a corner he sees a flash of a person, standing brazenly no more than 50 feet away. Our soldier approaches, follows his training and calls out asking if any assistance is needed. As soon as the soldier finishes his polite query the suspect bolts, grabbing something as they head for better cover. It is too late for our valiant and he sees what has happened all too late. The building he has worked hard to maintain and keep hospitable has been felled with a flickering wisp of a wrist. Our soldier survives this ordeal, but after this indignation, after his hard work for the community was destroyed with no other motivation but anger, does he have a purpose to continue?

Panting and sweating heavily our soldier wakes. His slumber provides no rest, only more pain. Numbly he suppresses the blaring alarm, and stands so that he may continue the struggle of existence. He opens his closet and pulls out his uniform, shuddering slightly. He does not know why he fights so hard, or why he continues down his path of self-apparent destruction. He just knows he must take one structured step forward, followed by another and report to a life he does not want. Perhaps the war will end. Perhaps.