Goota goota
Believe it or Not.
Jake watched as his kids walked across the park bridge to their mother. For the exchange, meeting in a public place was the routine for over a year now. He knew it was the best for them but hated not being with them.
His father would tell him, “You don’t hate it enough, or you would stop using, clean yourself up, and get help.”
No one really understood. They thought he was OK just because his body was intact, and somehow he was faking his troubles stemming from his war experiences.
Every night was a horror show relived if his eyes closed, so he didn’t sleep much. He was always on edge, exhausted. He couldn’t get the doctors to even listen to his story.
It began the night his unit came to an abandoned village, the map named it Ta-i-Sina. They cleared three homes near the town center. The guards for the night would stay outside atop the building; the rest could sleep inside.
Sleeping in buildings was a treat as most villages didn’t want anything to do with the patrols, so they often slept in the cold outdoors. Jake crashed hard and slept well that night.
When he woke, no one was there. The sun was out, the buildings were clear, the town center was empty, no sign of his platoon. He thought he was dreaming.
