Chapter 6

Christian

Hello, my little readers. Here is your Feral Friday post. I hope you all enjoy it. Please leave comments. Genuinely, I would like to know if it pleases you.

Here is your dinner menu:

Past trauma

Military lingo

Mention of Abuse

Medical Malpractice

Sexual Scenes

Mention of Drug abuse

Graphic Violence

Rehab Escape

Improper use of a fire extinguisher

Christian

I’ve been in this nuthouse for a year now. The loss of one's mother can break a person. It was hard, to say the least. She was my best friend, especially when Dad had been drinking, he got... physical. She passed away while I was overseas. I knew there was something off about that day when I was brought into the command tent and sat down with the chaplain, Commanding Officer, and Sargent Major. Let me tell you, that isn’t something you need when you’re knee deep in the soil of a foreign country. Receiving that news not only brought me home, but it also brought me down, then it brought me here - the deadly concoction of her death and the transition back to “the civilian life” sent me spiraling.

It started small. Some weed here and there with my other fellow Marines – those thrown into the shark tank of ungrateful, wastes of life. Tending to the same travesties of humanity inhaling the air my sisters and brothers died for, while complaining their coffee isn't done right. They take full advantage of the freedom brought to them by the blood of my kin, those worthless wretches who don't understand what it means to lose truly.

The reefer calmed the voices but did nothing to ward off the shadow people. No solace for the constant sounds of the firefights or bombings I experienced during the time I was forward deployed. So, the more things I tried, the more the nightmares would morph, becoming accustomed to the drug of the week, challenging me to try something different, something stronger.

This place was like living in a Broadway masterpiece of dysfunction and filth. The smell could knock a bloodhound senseless, heavy chemical cleaners mixed with human shit and piss. The sounds weren't much better. The hall resounds with the screams and incoherent ramblings of those deemed a threat to themselves and others. One relief I had was an orderly named Barney. Making it into his good graces was a God sent. I attained this gem after I stopped a complete nutcase from splattering his brains across the communal area with an IV stand. In return, he sneaks me smoky treats -Cigarettes to most. On occasion, he levels up, bringing pre-rolled joints from a smoke shop for us to share.

Orderlies like him make the nights, when the demons creep from the mind and into the shadows, bearable and safe. Having someone like that on the outside, they could have stopped the high that had me fading back into that nightmarish dream. I remembered feeling the pulse in my veins matching the frequency in the flashing glow of the alternating red and blue. Then I was restrained to a bed, blinded by bright white lights that passed above me. After everything was all said and done, I found myself here: a routine med schedule, a routine food schedule, and lights out by nine.

After all the time I've spent here, there has never been a reason for my leaving ... till she joined the rehab center a week ago. Going on what now? Five, six months of sobriety, and I would throw it all away for her. Little did I know that is exactly what I would have to do.

Evelyn

It was all a blur. A fever dream, and it was my fault. I will never forgive myself. I must get better, if not for myself, then for her. These words have imprinted themselves on my psyche; they repeatedly echo. Always the same words, never the same tone, a broken record struggling to correct itself.