In My Mind

Keeping You

In war, there are no winners.
Only losers.
-----

Images of dirt mixed with dark blood and mangled bodies flooded your mind.

The deafening sound of explosions and fear.

The chemical stench of human decay and gunfire.

The sweltering heat of the beating sun pounding on your skin, sticky from the sweat leaking from your pores.

All this death round you.

Three bodies.. ten.. twenty-five.. dead.

You knew not one of these muthafuckas and they didn't know you, but you'd killed them all because you were told to. Why'd they have to die?

They were probably just like you, following orders. The world was fucked up. You felt.. numb. Then, pain.

Stabbing pain in your stomach over and over and over.

You bolt upright in your bed and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, your breath returns heavily. You touch your stomach and exhale. No pain. You're still sweating bullets, but you're safe in your bed.

What was that about? The dream is still vivid and fresh in your mind.

You look at the dark screen of your laptop. You'd been watching Brotherly Love with Keke Palmer, not some war picture...

The time on your phone reads 4:15 a.m. You are parched, so you get up to get some water. You want a couple more hours of sleep before you get up for work, and right now it feels like you've barely slept. That nightmare was straight stress. You settle back into bed and close your eyes.

After a few minutes laying on your side, you're finally able to drift off again.

"Shoot him! You're an object Stevens, a weapon! Useless outside of what WE tell you to do."

There was a figure but the face was covered with a sack. Impossible to figure out who it was or if you knew them.

"Shoot him! Prove yourself! You're with US or you're one of THEM. Which is it, boy?"

The trigger slips and the body thuds to the floor, blood pooling. The sick, gnarled smile of a man you want to murder.

A jarring melody rings out and it doesn't fit. You concentrate on the familiar tune and your eyes pop open. Light streams through your window and you come back to yourself. What the fuck is with these dreams?!

Mentally exhausted, you raise up and drag yourself out of bed. You're angry. That damn dream pissed you off and it wasn't even real.

-

"Niaaa! Ugh.. You look like shit," Talia frowns and you cast her an evil eye that shuts her up. For all you know she has bags too, hers are just covered by concealer.

"Nightmares, Lia. I got zero sleep last night and I'm in a bad mood. Do not mess with me right now." She smiles in sympathy before her attention is snatched to the door.

"Well, you might wanna turn that frown upside down. That's your client."

Instantly your face contorts into one that's customer service worthy and you turn to see a black lady who looks to be in her mid-30s. Her hair looks thick, but you never really know until you put your hands in it.