The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, causing shadows to dance through the trees and over Vicar’s body. The river gurgled, and cicadas began to come out. The trunk of the truck was cold and stiff against my back and hips, but I made no attempt to move away from it. My fingers were numb, and I realized it was because they were wrapped tightly around the AR-15 rifle that currently sat in my lap. My stomach twisted, and gritting my teeth, I threw the gun out of the truck, where it landed beside the drying pool of blood from Vicar’s wounds. Get ahold of yourself. Did you want someone else to do this? You did the right thing, I thought, though whether I firmly believed that was unclear. It felt like at any minute something inside of me was going to snap.
The sob that comes out of my mouth breaks my train of thought. I put my fingers to my face and they came back wet. I’m not sure I can remember the last time I cried, the army beat that habit out of me. The tears fell onto my lap, staining my jeans and the floor of the truck. My eyes passed over Vicar’s body, which I realized that I could barely make out now that the sin had fully set. Taking a deep breath, I wiped my eyes on my jacket sleeve and grabbed the shovel next to me. I decided to dig a hole close to the riverbed. My back and legs ached by the time I was done digging. I had to take a few seconds to catch my breath afterwards. The knot in my chest tightened slightly when I picked up Vicar’s body and gently put him in the hole. His eyes, thankfully, were closed and he almost looked peaceful. It looked like he was simply sleeping, if you ignored the gaping bullet holes in his chest and head. Turning away, I rubbed my hands over my face as I took deep breaths, hoping to not throw up what I ate for lunch. The last time I’d thrown up was when I got food poisoning my second week into my deployment. Why am I falling apart now? I shot him three times, it wasn’t like he was going to come back to life. He’s just like those dogs we shot on the battlefield, I attempted to convince myself. But he’s not, is he? “Dammit,” I muttered as my boot hit something solid on the ground, causing me to stumble forward. I managed not to fall flat on my face, and I turned around to figure out what the culprit was. It was my gun, the one that I had thrown earlier. I hesitantly picked it up, and it sat heavily in my trembling hands. There’s a rustle behind me, and in a flash, I have my gun trained at the spot, my heart pounding in my ears. A squirrel stared back at me, an acorn in its hands. After a couple seconds into our staring match, the squirrel decided it was bored of me and scurried off into the night. Gritting my teeth, I lowered the gun as my breath came out rugged. Orange, will I always be orange? Will I ever get to be white again? To be free of this fear and caution? I mean, dammit I was about to shoot a freaking squirrel! The tether finally snaps and the next thing I know, tears are running down my face and screams are crawling out of my throat and into the open sky. Colors dance across my vision; red, and orange, and white, over, and over, swirling and blinding me. My chest aches and I scream, and I scream until I can’t scream anymore. I must have blacked out because suddenly I’m looking at the night sky. The stars are twinkling above me, and the ground is soft against my back from the morning rain. Numbness wrapped around me like a blanket as I laid there for who knows how long. My mind feels fuzzy, like it’s filled with cotton balls. Cheryl’s probably worried about me, I think faintly, but the thought drifts off like a cloud. Maybe I’m losing my mind, I’ve seen it happen to other men too many times. Men who see things that no man should ever have to see, men who once they see they don’t know how to handle it. Good men, men who will never be the same ever again. My mind then wanders to Weissert, who came home an empty house and an absent wife. Who started on a binge drinking spree and has yet to stop. I think of Lance Corporal Curtis, whose wife is five months pregnant, which doesn’t really add up after a seven-month deployment now does it? I think of all the men who didn’t even get to come back, like Eicholtz and Franklin, and the dozen other men whose names will most likely be forgotten. What where we even fighting for, if in the end all we have is empty hearts and a ledger full to the brim with red. My gun is cradled in my arms like a teddy bear, comforting like one. After what seemed like hours, I finally get back on my feet. I take the shovel that I had dropped at some point and filled Vicar’s grave back up with dirt. Then I threw the dirty shovel in the trunk and took hold of my gun once again. I knew what I had to do then, like a lightbulb going off in my head. I felt bad that I didn’t get to tell Cheryl I love her, but maybe it’s for the best.
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Topic: Sex Education Research Question: Should all schools in America provide sex education? Argument: All schools in America should provide sex education because learning about topics like how to have safe sex, gender and sexuality, and other things is vital for students health and safety. Topic: Homework Research Question: Should schools eliminate homework? Argument: Schools should eliminate homework because homework adds more stress and pressure to students already stressful lives. Topic: Free College Research Question: Should college in America be free? Argument: Colleges should be free because many people can't afford the high tuition prices and it's unjust for people to not be able to have the opportunity to go to college because they can't afford it. In the documentary Where to Invade Next, Michael Moore travels to different countries, such as Italy, France, and Finland, to explore the different customs, laws, and ways that the countries work. Topics explored include education, the prison system, equality, food, and more.
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Elijah CarneyI will use this blog to explore course readings. Archives
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