My Haunted Mind By Misti

When Parallel Worlds Don’t Unite

The sun creeps away shadowed by imposing clouds, an almost grey subterfuge takes its place.  Yet the Sunday afternoon strollers barely notice, immersed as they are in their lazy day activities.  A woman in a pink vest glances at her watch, time an unnecessary dictator that we choose to live our lives by.  A family; mum with her Gucci bag bearing designer pooch balancing from her shoulder.  Her petulant child walks beside her, hardly gaining a glance from a mother preferring to live her life in stark similarity to footballers wives.  Wheelchairs housing the disabled, do we notice, dare we care?  A picture postcard of a memory that will surely become lost in time…

Reality but is this real or just a dream?  A dream belonging to a nightmare existence where pretence and reality coagulate to carry you forward, ignorant of your will…

I close my eyes and I’m back there, gunfire penetrates my eardrums,a persistent attack from AK-47 assault rifles.  Fear seems to drift with the breeze.  I lay down suppressive fire, my courage endorsed from the gimpy(General Purpose Machine Gun) that sits before me.  A smile lightly dusts the edges of my mouth, as I envisage my weapon as a big friend that one hides behind when in trouble.  Too quickly that humour is obliterated, gone forever.   Briefly I hear the whoosh of a deathly RPG.  Its explosion rocks the ground, shattering buildings  and sending shards of body parts flying through the atmosphere, some staining my face.  A ringing invades my brain, an intolerable noise that is suddenly ceaseless and a pain comes with it, yet I am barely able to register that as terror grips me and I wonder if those body parts are mine…

Fear rages through my mind, my hearts beat is so loud that I wonder if these are my final ones.  I want to touch my hands to my stomach, my legs, my face, to satisfy that I am still whole.  I want to scream so that I know I’m still alive but I cannot.  Frozen in fear and selfish with thought that is only just drifting from myself to consider my comrades.  Then another pain invades me, suddenly drenched in realism that if it isn’t my body that has exploded into tiny blood and flesh atoms, then it is that of a friend that I have shared my happy memories and worst fears with.  Who has borne such torturous encounters with me that we have become linked by common bond, that our loved ones at home will never understand.  A friend whom I have sat in silence with awash with nightmares of what we have seen and done, and then with a false humour we have arisen, smiles on our faces, laughter ringing out, yet hearts still bleeding to fight another day…

A child’s laughter, the roar of a motorbike and a distant siren all serve to bring me back to the here and now.  Too late, a lone tear slides down my face as my pain continues to torture me.  Strangers glance in my direction, me the odd woman, frozen in remembrance with tell-tale signs of emotion prevalent.

Burning frustrations make me want to launch at them.  Puncturing their perfect existence with a reality vaccine that will allow them to enter our world, where our lives are risked to ensure their continued safety.  To allow them their pretentious days with fake tans and sculptured lifestyles.  For a brief moment in time I want them to feel the trauma of watching your best friends body become obliterated in mere seconds, yet repetitively haunt for the rest of your life…

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4 thoughts on “My Haunted Mind By Misti

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