Clouded Mind

Has it stopped yet? Has it finally finished?

I can still hear the bangs, the guns, the screams. But that could just be in my head. I don’t know what’s real and what’s fake anymore.

I need to know if it’s finished.

I can wait it out. Better to be safe than sorry.

I’m looking around for the highest mount of mud I can take cover behind but it’s no use. The only chance I have to survive is to lie with the dead. It’s like being in a horror film. I wish I was in a horror film.

Today I can send a letter back home. They read what we write; you can only say what they want you to say.

“My darling wife…”

Now what? She can’t know of my misery, of my pain or my suffering. I’m doing this for our county. I’m brave.

“…Another glorious day of fighting for the allies…”

No. I can’t lie. I scrunch up my piece of paper and bury it in the ground. I’ll write to her next week.

It’s our turn to go to the front next. Another frontal assault we’re told- not that we’re having much luck with that. Yesterday, I heard that there were 60,000 casualties just in that one day. That’ll be a date in history — the bloody battle of the Somme.

Myself and my friend, Timmy, huddle together for warmth whilst we wait for the signal to attack. This moment feels quiet, the space in the air taken up by the thumping of heartbeats of my fellow soldiers who, I can imagine, would rather be anywhere else than here. Me and you both. I focus on these beats; it calms me. To know that we all feel the same fear and angst about doing what we signed up to do. They make it seem so appealing: the posters, the adverts, the politicians. Everybody acts like we’re heroes when really, we’re on a suicide mission.

“Ok soldiers listen up…”

I block out the general’s speech. It’s the same every time. If anything it makes me more nervous so I choose not to listen. I just have to get over, I have to get across to the other side. If I don’t, I’m dead. You don’t come back from No Man’s Land alive.

The whistle sounds.

Now we’re in slow motion. In unison, we hurl ourselves over the side of the trench and charge towards the enemy. Almost like this was anticipated, we are met with German machine gun fire, so rapid and intense I am shocked to still be standing.

As I dive onto the ground for protection, I look around. I don’t see Timmy. I shove my helmet back to improve my vision. My heart stops, my stomach turns and my eyes become blinded by streams of water that suddenly come flooding in.

I found Timmy.

I am sitting watching the clock tick. Watching the hand that moves as each second passes. Time that we take for granted. Time that gets stolen.

She’s made me tea and biscuits. My favourite. She sends them to me when I’m at the front so I can feel at home. For those 10 minutes, it works. I almost forgot that I really am back home now. It’s hard to switch off from life out there when you leave. Hard to forget what you’ve seen.

“Alright Mr Brown. We’re diagnosing you with what we call shell shock. I’ll prescribe a pill, take it three times a day and we look forward to having you back in two weeks.”

Maggy shows the doctor out whilst I continue to stare at the clock. I don’t need a diagnosis, I just need to unsee.

The look on Maggy’s face when she reappears is one of concern. I’m used to it by now. I wish they would treat us like normal people, not fragile toys they’re too scared to drop so they never get played with. I can tell she wants me to speak, to unload the tragicness of the event I recently witnessed. But that’s not going to happen. It should never be spoken of.

She settles with: “I’m here if you need to talk,” and precedes to complete her washing.

I’ve had another episode today. It’s my third one already this week. Maggy’s concern is growing stronger and, I must admit, mine is too. The flashbacks…they feel so real. It’s like I’m there. I can see the blood, I can smell the decaying bodies, I can feel the pain like it’s happening right in front of me. Oh well, not to worry. Doctor gives you a pill, you fall asleep and hope to wake up with peace of mind. Seems like they make it up day by day but I can’t complain. I can see Maggy and that’s all that matters.

It’s dark.

Everything is pitch black. I’m blind.

I’m struggling to my feet, wiping my eyes, trying to get some form of clarity. I can feel the squelch of mud under my feet and I can hear the screams of those around me. I’m back.

As my vision clears, I see a familiar face, though it can’t be possible. There’s no way this can be true.

“Timmy, is that you?” I exclaim, arms stretched out running towards him.

As I’m approaching, so is someone else. He’s not like me though. He’s not on our side. He’s going straight for Timmy, I have to stop this. I clench my fist and push through with as much force as I can, bringing the enemy to the ground. But I don’t stop, I keep going. I’m angry. I’m at war. He’s the enemy. There’s blood on my hands and sweat pouring down my face. I’m hitting and kicking with all the effort I have inside of me. I’m doing this for our county, I’m protecting my friend.

I’m tired now. I think it’s over.

As I bring myself to, my surroundings change. Suddenly I don’t feel the squelch under my feet and I don’t hear the screams. I don’t see Timmy. Or anyone else for that matter.

Just a body on the floor.

I look down.

“Maggy?”

I hope you enjoy this. I appreciate any support or feedback!