The Pacifist [COMPLETED]

Like a Monster

Joseph

A rumbling growl tumbled restlessly in his throat as the taxi pulled away. Rachel's insolence both surprised and delighted him. A groan escaped as he imagined all the ways she could piss him off and all the ways he could make her feel sorry for it. He wished they would have been alone so he could show her exactly how that handshake made him feel.

Joseph didn't take the taxi all the way home and got out about a half hour's walk away. Walking helped. He barreled down the sidewalk in his usual manner, but it didn't help with the building tension inside of him. His fists ached for Rachel already, making him question if satiating his needs was even possible. Certainly not if she starts to play these games, he thought. Home came too soon and he sat at the kitchen table, staring at the bare wall above his sofa, while trying to fight the restlessness in his hands. His phone buzzed, breaking him out of his trance.

It was a text from his army buddy, J.P.

J.P.: Hey man, how have you been.

Joseph's blood ran cold. Since he had decided to pursue a life of pacifism, J.P. and him had grown apart and only reached out to pass along news, usually bad. Joseph didn't want to answer but another text came through anyway.

J.P.: Are you free for a call?

Fuck, it has to be bad, thought Joseph. The phone rang and J.P.s' persistence confirmed Joseph's suspicions. His thumb hovered over the decline button, but rejecting a call from a fellow veteran was a huge no. Mental health was a common issue and ignoring a call could mean not being there for a brother when it mattered most.

"Hello," he answered, trying not to sound bothered.

"He man, sorry to bother you. Umm, I don't know how to say this but Gary's gone. He..."

Joseph closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the next bit. If it was by suicide, he wasn't sure he could bare it. It was too close to home, for all of them. They all fought to live everyday, and when one decided to end things, it made fighting to live even harder. He still remembered when he had gotten the news of a soldier he had served with who had decided to end things before his time. Joseph had been envious of the guy. He got to escape this hell of an existence.

"...well, I don't know if you know, but he got cleared to return and was on a tour." J.P. paused and Joseph knew it was to hide the trembling in his voice. "It was friendly fucking fire, man. Fuck."

Joseph let out his breath slowly. "I had no idea he had been deployed."

J.P. cleared his throat. "I don't know if you want to come out to the support group, I know the guys will be happy to see you."

Joseph shook his head. "No."

"It's not good to be so alone..."

"I'm not alone. I have my business..."

"Come on, how is that helping you. I can hear it, man. You're wound up tighter than a fucking virgin's asshole. I don't think what you're doing is right. We were trained to kill... for violence. Hiding away from it won't make it go away. It'll just get worse. You gotta..."

"Bye, J.P." Joseph ground his teeth. And this was why they didn't talk often anymore. J.P. couldn't help himself and they each had wildly different views on how to return to their humanity after years of service in the military.

J.P. sighed. "Bye, Joe. I hope you're okay."

Joseph grunted and ended the call. So, Gary Carson was dead. The idiot apparently hadn't had enough. Joseph knew that wasn't really the case though. After their service to their country, many had had a hard time finding purpose and meaning in life. J.P. wasn't wrong when he had said that they had been trained for violence. Trained for violence to keep peace, and then returning to peace that wasn't compatible with who they had become.

Joseph lumbered to the cabinet where he had a bottle of scotch and poured himself a short drink. He raised it up. "Rest in peace, brother," he said, before drinking the warm liquid in one go. He felt heavy as he returned the bottle to its place and went to his bed. He didn't even bother taking off his clothes or getting under the covers. His legs hung over the edge and he stared up at the ceiling. Rachel's skin would be good right about now, he thought.