In Vietnam || The TCM 2 Fanfiction

In Vietnam

There was a huge explosion near I and nine other people. We were quite lost, trying to get somewhere in the depths of the jungle. We tried to stay pretty still but the fire around us forced us to leave our base.

All I saw around me was smoke. I couldn't see where I was going, I couldn't breathe. I didn't know where I and nine others were. Vietnam's jungle around us was in flames. And before I knew it, I collapsed onto the ground. I heard yelling and coughing from around me. I'm too tired, I just want to die, were my only thoughts at the moment.

When I woke up all I saw was gray. Was I still in the flames? Was I in Hell? I didn't know for a while, until I heard a voice.

"It's okay Robert, you're safe now. You almost got carbon monoxide poisoning but you were saved just in time. Unfortunately you were the only one of you ten who could make it." A doctor of some sort explained to me. I couldn't even shed tears anymore. Those men were the only friends I had ever made and now, they were gone.

"What?" I whispered before I felt a few tears escaping my eyes. My vision went blurry again so I wiped my eyes quickly. "You're serious?" I asked sounding somewhat devastated.

"Yes. I'm sorry." The doctor replied to me sounding so fake. I was angry, I was sad, I didn't want to believe him. In fact all I wanted was to punch him so bad but at the same time I wanted to be left alone at the moment.

"I want to be alone." I pleaded tears in my eyes looking down at my lap. The doctor nodded and turned his back on me to leave.

I sobbed quietly feeling my face getting warmer and warmer the more I cried. Soon I was sobbing to my pillow loudly. Hoping that the pillow muffled my sobs even a little.

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder. I didn't know who it was, and to be honest, I didn't really care. I lost my friends, I had lost all of the friends I had made here. Every, single, one. Why did I need to survive? Why me? Why not someone who at least has a good life outside this hell. My life was hell even before I was sent here.

The next thing I knew it was next day and I was sent back to the jungle with few others. We had to shoot people, we had to hear those loud bombs go off in the distance and also near us. I hated that sound already. It brought ringing to my ears. It reminded me of everyone I saw who had died.

I was still alive for some reason. Maybe it was God's plan. If I even believe in one anymore. I have started to lose my faith in both God and humanity. I hate humanity. Why do we need war? Why? I don't understand why someone wants to kill people off in wars.

Maybe it's not for understanding. There ain't a reason for war, there never has been. But world leaders have never understood it. I just want to cry constantly but I can't. All I can do is listen to orders that are thrown at my way.

I hate shooting people. I hate this fucking jungle. I hate this war. I hate everything. Why am I even here? I should be at home. I want to go home. I miss home.

An order is shouted my way and like a robot, I follow it. That's where my life has gone to. Following orders like a good little doggie.

Soon the sun sets and it's getting colder and darker, and more dangerous. I can almost feel a cold breeze brush against my dirty face that looks more gray than tan. I can still hear noises around me. A lot of noises so I can't sleep. Like I otherwise even could.

I didn't function normally anymore. I was on autopilot all the time. And as you'd propably guess I was in combat against other human beings, shooting them.

But soon enough someone got close to me and knocked my helmet off of my head. I fell to the ground soon getting back up and starting to hit the man, who attacked me, with my gun.

Soon I felt it. A blade against my head, slicing my head open badly. I didn't lose consciouness immediately which made everything worse. I felt someone covering my wound and picking me on my legs again. I fell down and the person picked me up now fully. And that was when I fell unconscious.

"Where...?" I silently asked in hopes of someone hearing me.

"You're in hospital Robert Sawyer. You experienced a huge head injury two days ago." A nurse answered me. Two days. That's a long time to be asleep.

"Wa-as I, i-in coma?" I muttered out stuttering the words out. Apparently I had a stutter now, I thought to myself.

"Yes you were. We also had to put you through surgery. You were near dying when you were brought here." The nurse replied biting her bottom lip in a way that she may have said too much.

"Why? Wh-why a-am I s-still ali-alive?" I stuttered as I spoke. I hated that stutter from the beginning. Or since that head injury, since that is what caused it.

Now I sounded like Nubbins. I miss him, when I get home the first thing I'm going to do is to hug him, and Bubba, maybe Drayton and Grandpa.

"Well you had an extensive surgery done which saved your life. But there is now a plate on the right side of your scalp." The nurse informed. Why did they even saved my life. Only if they knew what horrible things I've done in my life.

"R-right. Wha-whatever." I muttered out weakly. My voice was weak, my limbs were weak, I was weak. Powerless. Useless. But still alive. I hated it. I hated to be still alive. Unable to do anything. At least now I might get discharged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you to everyone who read this mess of a text that I wrote lol! Also this is my very first published story so I'm in no way an experienced writer. :|

I also don't know anything about war so don't kill me if it's inaccurate!

- JuliaeiJuulia/4/9/2023/