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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1888686-Wandering
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Other · #1888686
Phoenix cannot figure out what to do with himself, his mind wandering through memories...
Phoenix woke up from the nightmares at around 0300 in the morning.  Typical.  He got up and went to his MacBook Air to work on his thesis literature search, but the university library's server was down.  Phoenix next cleaned off his other computer desk and got rid of over 200 e-mails that he did not need, nor had he checked on that computer for over a month.  He could not find some of his vital shortcuts.  They simply were not there.  Oh, well.  They always sent him paper bills anyway, he thought.  His mind wandered through other things he could do at that hour of the morning.  He plugged in his iPod to charge, then went to his art desk.  Phoenix's mind would not let go of the nightmare.  He could not do any art.  He could not think past the War to create anything.  He sat there at his art desk for quite some time.  Phoenix finally went back to his Mac to see if the university library's site was up yet.  It was.  Phoenix did not end up researching for his thesis, though.  He researched for articles on PTSD and suicide, for PTSD and depression, and for suicide methods.  Phoenix felt that he was wandering through the Desert again in his mind.  Through Hell, through the blood, through the sand...

Phoenix tried everything to go back to sleep.  He tossed and turned and got out of bed again, trying to be forgiving of himself and others.  He could not, however, tolerate the memories much longer.  Phoenix's psychiatrist had confiscated 10 pistols and their ammunition from him to keep him from shooting himself.  Phoenix wrote some more on the online writing website he belonged to.  A warrior's torture includes the memories, the killing, the blame, the civilians, and spiritual matters, to name a few.  What was he supposed to do?  Oh, yes, that was it.  Phoenix suddenly remembered.  In his wanderings, he was to keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself like a good soldier.  Phoenix was a good soldier...  He had been loyal.  He had followed orders.  He had lost friends.  Even his own mind was coming apart in combat, along with everything else.  Those memories haunted his nightmares.  Could he forgive himself for his mind coming apart a little bit?  How old was he during the War?  Phoenix was 19 years old.  He turned 20 in the Desert.  Big deal, he thought.  He should have been better than that.  He should have been able to stay in his right mind and think clearly.  Phoenix could never forgive himself for that.  That was the ultimate in poor soldiering, as far as Phoenix was concerned.  Phoenix had done the best he could.  He tried to convince himself that he was a good troop, a good soldier, a good person...  So much for that.  It was over.  Phoenix had failed the test.  Some good soldier, he thought.  Once the pressure made him crack, Phoenix knew he would not, could not, ever be the same.  He would never handle pressure the way he should be able to.  He was mentally ill.  PTSD and Depression.  Phoenix no longer wanted to go back to bed.  He just wanted to find a gun...
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1888686-Wandering