“Come on you.”

The window shades slide open, and I groan miserably into my pillow as the sunlight seeps into the room.  “Fuck off.”

“None of that.”

I’ve failed at life.

It’s really pathetic actually, because I was given another chance after enduring so much shit.  I mean...I shouldn’t even be alive right now.  Those bastards beat the shit out of me and kept me so malnourished that I still don’t now how I made it back.  I used to tell myself that it was fate.  That Abbey and I were supposed to be together and it was why I survived.

But I was so fucking wrong.  So wrong, and everything is shit now.

Everything.

“Meds.  Come on.  You don’t want to be here another month, do you?”

I sigh harshly, and finally push myself into an upright position.  “I don’t care.”

“I don’t even want to be here another month.”  She laughs as she hands me a tiny cup with my pills and another with water.  “At least you have a choice.  This is what keeps a roof over my head.”

I barely smirk, just take the medication, so she’ll leave me the hell alone.  

“Open.”

I open my mouth and lift my tongue as she shines her light inside of it, to ensure I’ve swallowed my pills.  

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

“Linda, just get out.”  I flop back onto the bed again, and pull the blanket over me.

“It’s nice out today.  How about a walk?”

“No.”

“Your loss.  Make sure you go to the activity center at some point though.  You know Martin will be on your ass otherwise.”

“Fine.”

She leaves.  I close my eyes.  Thank goodness for silence.

I’ve been here for three and a half weeks.  They tell me that I should be able to go home soon, that I’m showing all the signs of a proper recovery.  I have no idea what the fuck that means.  A proper recovery? I haven’t recovered from shit.

They just don’t have enough space to keep me here much longer, and I know that’s the real reason I’m about to get booted.  There’s too many other fucked up guys just like me, waiting to get in here and get themselves some help.  The only reason I was given preferential treatment was because my case was really severe.  I mean, I guess they considered it that...

Slitting your wrists is pretty severe.

I stare at the gauze and bandages covering them, remembering it all.  It’s still clear in my mind, exactly how it happened, and I wish like hell that it wasn’t.  I wish I could have held it together, been strong like Abbey thought I would be when she left me.  Those first few days were okay. I was tolerating my mother because she’d sacrificed a lot to be able to stay in Texas with me.  But then...then the dreams started in again.  The night terrors.  I mean, they were always there, but they hadn’t been that severe...ever.  The very day that Abbey left, was when they decided to start ganging up on me.  

By the end of that second week, I was completely lost.  I wasn’t sleeping at all, I was going through a case of beer a day, and then more at Alvin’s.  My mom couldn’t get through to me, even though she shouted at me, told me I needed to snap out of it.  But I couldn’t.  I couldn’t be her son anymore.  Not the one that she remembered.

The only thing that kept me hanging on was the thought that Abbey was happy.

But eventually, that happy part of me died too.

By the time the new year came, I had stopped going to work.  I couldn’t handle it anymore, couldn’t focus, and had a big issue recruiting those young kids into the Army, because they had no idea what could happen to them, and I wasn’t allowed to talk about what happened to me.  My CO’s were constantly up my ass, telling me I had to figure out what I was going to do, because they couldn’t continue to house me if I wasn’t performing my duties to the military, presidential blessing or not.  I didn’t listen.  I didn’t care.  I spent my days hiding in the house, and wandered the streets around the base at night, because I couldn’t sleep, and I refused to try. My mom would wait up for me, scream at me when I got back.  She kept telling me that I needed to go to therapy, that I was falling apart.  I’d enrolled in it too, before Abbey left.  I thought I would be okay, that I could go, and work, and live my life like I was supposed to.

But my Abbey was gone.  The one who could calm me down in the middle of the night, the one...the only one that I was completely comfortable around.  She was gone, because I made it so.  I had to do it, and I knew she was better off but...but I just couldn’t get a grip on my life after she was gone.  I went to two therapy sessions, sat in a circle with a bunch of guys who thought they were more fucked up than I was.

But they weren’t.

They had “bad dreams” because they “shot someone.”  I had night terrors because I was whipped, starved, and tortured for seven years.  I had them because in order for us to survive, we had to kill two little kids asleep in their bed.  I saw that every night, the vision of them laying there, covered in blood, still looking peacefully asleep.  

I couldn’t make it stop.  

And they couldn’t seem to understand, or help me.

So I stopped going

My mom didn’t take it well. She didn’t take anything in my life well. The only thing she wanted to do was nag me and nag me, hoping it would force me to be better.  She was fucked up too, and thinking back on it now, I should have known that from the first day she came to stay with me.  But too much was going on, and I just...couldn’t see it.

I wish I could have.

Maybe...this wouldn’t have happened if I did.

She just got out of the hospital a couple of days ago.  Mark is still talking to me, surprisingly enough, and called to tell me they were taking her back home to Colorado.  I thanked him, told him I loved him, that I wanted him to work hard in school so he could get a scholarship, and to promise he would never join the military, no matter how tempting their promises of tuition and an easy ride sounded.

He was sobbing when he got off the phone with me.

I doubt I’ll talk to him again.  My dad wouldn’t allow it.  He’d tell me that I wasn’t going to fuck up one more persons life.  As it is, he asked me not to call, not to come back to Brighton, and I said I wouldn’t, as long as he promised not to tell the Feldman’s what really happened.  He agreed to make up a story, probably because he knew how badly I wanted Abbey to move on with her life.

So I’ll just continue to fuck up my own until nobody cares anymore.

Until they just...let me be...let me die.

That’s all I want.

I walked in the door, completely wasted the night it happened.  My friends had taken me out to party.  It was one of my buddies birthdays, so we went to Alvin’s.  It had been a rough week.  Rougher than most.  The dreams were just...they were so bad.  They made me sick to my stomach, forcing me to vomit several times a day.  

It felt good to drink.  It always did.

I think I cleaned them out of Jack and Coke.

My friends cheered me on of course.  They were probably just as drunk as I was.

“Bray, this has to stop.”

My mom was up as usual, sitting on the couch with the TV blaring softly in front of her when I walked into the house.  “Fine, ma.”

I staggered into the kitchen.

She was right behind me.

I opened the fridge, grabbed another beer out, and prepared myself for another round of solitary drinking.

“Stop it.”

She knocked the bottle out of my hand.  It smashed when it hit floor.  The liquid spilled everywhere.  Visions flashed through my brain then.  My chains knocked into the bucket while I was washing the floor and the water went everywhere.  He grabbed me, threw me against the wall and began to whip me.  He wouldn’t stop, even though I could hear Lennot in the background, begging him to give me some mercy.

I closed my eyes and cried out, screamed in terror, remembering it.

When my eyes opened, the only person I saw was that son of a bitch with his whip, and I would have done anything to protect myself.

I pushed him through the glass patio door.

Moments later, I would realize it was my mother that I’d done it to.

She fractured her leg and had several deep cuts on her body because of the glass.  They told me she needed twelve sets of stitches total, on her face head and arms.  My father couldn’t look at me for days after he flew out, and Mark just stared at me, shocked, knowing I wasn’t the brother he admired anymore.  I was in the psych ward of the North Texas Hospital then, strapped down to the bed because I’d picked up a shard of glass that night that I push my mother, and slit my wrists.

If the neighbor hadn’t called the MP’s when she heard the commotion before I pushed my mom, I would have died.

I would have been better off too.

I was in there a week before they deemed me ‘competent to function’ and my CO arranged for me to be brought here, to this mental health facility, while my family remained at the hospital together.  It’s not horrible here.  They don’t strap me down, just pump me full of drugs so I can’t feel anything.  They force me to sleep through the night, and that’s good.  I feel a little less sick, and I think I could stay here, live out my days, and be somewhat okay.

But now they’re going to release me.

My CO came by the other day, and told me I was going to be discharged, that I needed to get have my stuff out of the house two weeks after I get out of here.  He said that they would try to make it easy on me.  That I’m not going to be dishonorably discharged, and that I’m lucky because if it were anybody else, they would be.  

I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.  I asked him...he told me that he didn’t have an answer, but that maybe the VA could help me.

I hate the fucking VA.

It’s hit me, very hard, that I’m alone.  That I have to figure it out, that if I don’t, I’m going to end up one of those homeless vets that you see on the streets.  

I’m so scared.

I know I could call Abbey too...and that...she would help me.

But I’ll kill myself before I ruin her life again.

She wrote me a letter.  I only just got it, because one of my friends was nice enough to bring it to me.  It was at the house, but he knew I would want to see it.  I read it almost every day.  When I first got it, it even smelled like her, and I got lost in the scent for days.

But then it was gone, just like our marriage.

She told me she’s getting married in a couple of months.

And that...they’re having a baby.

She deserves it.  She deserves Justin and...he deserves her too.  I know she’s going to be safe, secure, and well taken care of.  Always.

I’ve been trying to get myself to write her back, but...I just don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say.  I know I can’t tell her about my mom, what’s happened, so all I could really do is lie, and I don’t want to.  Not to her.  

I don’t think I’ll write her.  I’ll let her go on, and forget me, because...that’s the best thing for us.

I think about Jess sometimes, wonder whatever became of her.  I’m pretty sure she’s still over there.  Her year tour isn’t up yet.  She never wrote to me though.  I think it’s because she wanted me to focus on Abbey, wanted the best thing for me.  I wish I could tell her how everything has turned out for me.  I wish I could talk to her, tell her how I feel.

I know she would listen.

But she’s gone too.

Everybody is just...gone.

“Braeden.”

I look towards the doorway.  Shit, I didn’t even realize I was crying. I wipe harshly at my face, trying to clear the tears away.  I hate to let them see me cry here.  I’m babied enough as it is.  Linda is standing there, a calm, pleasant smile on her face.  “I told you I don’t want to go for a walk.”

She chuckles and shakes her head a little.  “You have a visitor.”

I cock my head to the side.  “Who?”

“Just come out to the center, would you?”  She rolls her eyes.

“But...”

“I can send him away.”

God damn her.  I grunt, groan, and finally get to my feet, staggering miserably out into the hallway before I follow Linda down to the activity hall.  I see the usual drones seated around the room, staring out the windows, playing Monopoly, and watching TV.

“Hey Sampson.”

I turn around, and my mouth falls open.  There’s Anthony, standing there, his smile a mile wide as he holds his arms out to me.  Shit...

How did he find out?

“Holtoy...”  I stagger forward, and then he pulls me into a long hug.  I find myself crying a little as I hug him back, tightly.  It’s the first feeling of warmth...of being wanted, that I’ve felt in months.  “What...I mean, how did you...”

“I have a few friends at Fort Hood,” he says as we pull away from each other.  “I heard about what happened.”

The look in his eyes is a worried one.  I can tell he’s...better.  No, not a hundred percent, but his life is stable.  Stabler than mine, but I think most people’s are.  “How’s um...” I rack my brain for a moment, hating that his wife’s name has slipped my mind.  “How’s Kelly?”

“Good...she took Michael to the McDonald’s a couple of miles back.  They’ll come say hello in a bit.”  He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels nervously.  “When I heard...what happened, she wanted us to come out here so I could see you.  Crazy right?” He laughs.  “I guess I should have been the one wanting to jump on the plane, but you know what a stubborn fuck I can be.”

“Yeah.”  A smile tugs at my mouth, but quickly fades.  “I know.”

“You wanna sit?  Talk maybe?”

For the first time since I was brought here, I decide to take Linda’s advice.  “How about a walk outside?”

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

We seem to talk about everything on that walk.  I tell him about Abbey, what happened between us, and he seems to be the first person I’ve ever told, besides Justin, that understands.  During our flight back home from Afghanistan, I told him a lot about her, and he told me a lot about his wife and baby...what he remembered of course.  He tells me his relationship with his wife has changed.  He has night terrors too, and it caused them to go through a few rough patches when he came home, bad ones, that nearly tore them apart.  Their family was very supportive though, and had them seek counseling before they could get a divorce. It’s helping them a lot.  Anthony tells me he’s fallen deeply back in love with his wife because of the therapy.  His relationship with his son is really great too, and I’m happy for him, since the kid never new his father before last year.  He was just a baby when Anthony disappeared.

Out of the both of us, I think Anthony deserves the better life over me.  He spent thirteen years in that hell, more than anybody should have to, and his wife...she actually waited for him.  She refused to believe he was dead, and refused to date anybody else.  She reminded their son every day that he had a daddy, and that he would be coming home one day.

That’s fuckin’ dedication.  I know Abbey was like that for a time...

Then Justin came along.

But I won’t resent her for it.  

“So what happens now?”  He sits down on a bench and I sit next to him.  “They’re discharging you?”

I nod and look at the ground.  “Yeah.  They’re doing me the favor of making it an honorable discharge but...they tell me I have to be out of the house right after I get out of here.”

“You got somethin’ lined up then?”

I shake my head.  

“Fuckin’ great government we have,” he laughs bitterly.  

“I...I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” I rub my face with my hands.  “I had savings but when I got married, half of it went to that, and furnishing the house.  Then...then I got into some trouble and had to use part of it for bail.  I have about two grand to my name right now, and without a job...I know I can’t get a place of my own.”

“Why don’t you come to Arizona,” he says, automatically.

This was his intention.  But I can’t...I can’t just invade his life like that.

“I can’t.”

“Look, Kelly and I discussed this.  She wants me to help you out, you know? If...if it wasn’t for you, I’d still be there.  I know I would be.  I never...I never tried to escape before that day.”

I look up at him, seriously.  “Please don’t tell me you believe all that bullshit they say about me saving your life.”

“But you did.”

“You lead us to that road, Anthony.  You made sure I didn’t shoot myself in the face that day. I mean, fuck, they gave me a Medal of Honor and...”

“Then put it to some use would you!”

I gasp a little.

“Sitting here, letting them dictate what you’re going to do, and tell you that you’re nothing but a piece of shit vet now, isn’t showing the country why you earned that Medal, Braeden.  You need to come out of this, and make something of yourself.  Kelly’s dad has his own construction business.  I practically run it now.  You can come work for me.  Kelly says you can stay with us for as long as you need.  I’ll pay you decent, and when you get enough money together, you can get a place of your own.  Your life will change Bray, trust me.”

I shake my head.

“You need somebody,” he persists.  “Come on, Sampson.  I...I have my family back, and it’s because of you.  It’s my turn to help you out.”

“You don’t know what I’ve turned into.”

“I have a good idea.”

I look up at him, and see the understanding in his eyes.  I don’t have to get into the gory details. Anthony just...knows.  He knows what my night terrors make me capable of.

Maybe that’s what I need.  Somebody who knows what’s running through my mind.

And if Jessica can’t be here, I guess Anthony is the next best person.  I know I can trust him, because he was there, and now...he wants to help me, so maybe it’s time that I cave in and let somebody do it.  Arizona will be new, and fresh.  Maybe it’ll be like he says, maybe I’ll be better, different, and have a completely different life in a few months time.

Maybe I’ll actually meet somebody.

“A-all right.  I’ll do it.”

“Great,” he smiles.  “You won’t be sorry.”

I hope he’s right.