No More War! - 3

“Why won’t she just stop her screaming, and why does he have to be so noisy”, thought Roger. 

“Why the hell do I have to sit here and listen to this fanfare, day in and day out”? 

“Is this what I am going to be sentenced to for the rest of my bloody days, I can’t stand it….just SHUT UP!”

Roger sunk back into his chair and starting flicking through the television programmes over and over again. This was the only way he could stop the constant flashbacks that he experienced since his return. 

Flashes and broken memories, memories of the things that he had done, and things that he had seen while he was on tour over the past four years, yes, things that no-man should have seen or done. 

The noise, the noise, the noise of bullets flying past his head, the explosion that cost him his leg!

The taste of dust in his throat and the heat, the smell of dead meat, and pain he felt, as the explosion echoed around him, the blast that stole away his freedom. 

The heat as he lay there waiting to be placed out of his misery, the painful wound becoming infected as he waited, and waited, and waited….

Suddenly he realised that he missed it! 

Why did he miss this life so full of horror?  Why could he not return to his family, the family he use to miss when away, and the family he could not wait to return to - the family he loved!

Why was he unable to look at his wife, or sit chatting to his son for longer that an hour a day, compared to the hours he had spent thinking of his son and wishing he was with him when he had been away. 

What had changed? 

Timmy raced into the sitting room, and announced that he was off to school, and had only come to say goodbye to his dad….his dad the hero….his dad his hero! 

Roger glanced towards him but looked straight through his son.

He only managed to smile, as Timmy threw his arms around his dad and kissed him on the cheek. 

With that he was gone! 

And Roger was left with his haunting thoughts all alone once again. 

Thoughts that had plagued him since he had gain consciousness in a military hospital five months ago, since then the memories of the dreadful day played through his mind, as if he was constantly watching a re-play of a horror movie. 

Over and over again, the same scenes tormented him day into night, night into day, hour after hour, moment following moment. 

If these memories were so terrible, then why did he so want to go back, why did he feel so lost and alone? 

Why did he feel neither alive nor dead, why did he no longer feel a thing?

Diane popped her head round the door and said goodbye to him, informing him that she was off to drop Timmy at school, and would go via the shops to buy something for tea. 

She asked him was there anything he needed or wanted. 

He nodded, indicating that he did not want anything. 

She closed the door shut and left, chocking back the tears, something she went through every time she saw her husband sat there so distant, so broken and so alone. 

Her husband the soldier, her husband the hero, her husband no more!

(C) 2012