![]() Soldier OnA Story by Elizabeth![]() A man comes home from war, but is he really still there? Short story.![]() There was the flash. Then the heat. He didn’t know which was worse. Both brought him back to that dreadful day he refused to acknowledge. His eyes stared wide and unseeing at me, blaming me for my life. For my survival. There was nothing I could do to save him. The blood on my hands flowed bright crimson in in the black and white world we were placed in. It seeped out of his mouth, out of the gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be. Jack pulls me away from Paul, my buddy, the one I was never supposed to leave behind. “I need to get Paul. I need to get Paul!” I yell to Jack, struggling to get back to my wounded friend. “Look at him. Look at him! There’s nothing we can do Evan, there’s nothing we can do.” “I need to save him. We promised. I promised. I need to save him!” But Paul’s figure distorts more, bending and twisting and scattering in the blast of another bomb. Leaving me alone, staring at what used to be my friend in that god awful desert. Alone, with the guilt. “Evan wake up. Wake up!” his brother shook him awake. Brian evaded the grab to his throat with the ease of experience. Evan hadn’t been the same since he came home, if you could even call it that. He was a shell of the bright vivid man his family knew and loved, and it scared them. There was only one conclusion: He won the war, and the war won him right back. © 2016 ElizabethAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on November 6, 2014 Last Updated on January 5, 2016 Tags: war, soldier, ptsd, survivors guilt |