Shadow of Humanity

Chapter 1: Appointments and Domiciles

Group had just let out and I could not help but feel as though I had just wasted my entire day. A bunch of depressed guys sitting around and talking about all the things that brought them down, their feelings and their fears. I know it helped some of them, but I got very little from it, at least there was always fresh donuts. Danny, an old veteran who had been in the thick of it in Vietnam, always made sure the snacks and coffee were the best they could be, though he never shared in the talking.

I could tell he had seen some terrible things as his eyes reminded me of the way mine appeared whenever looking in a mirror. We were the same in our silence, except when the chaplain that ran the group would try to get me to share. I would have to lie and tell the fabricated story that had been scripted for me whenever I had been discharged.

The truth is, no one other than me and a few others knew what had taken place on that mission. I had managed to drag Melton out though he was almost dead and by the time the surgeons had finished with him, he had wished I had left him there and he eventually joined our fallen comrades of his own accord. Sergeant Melton was as brave as they came but he could not live with what we had been through and the silence we were forced to endure. The lie we had to live was much too heavy of a burden for him.

I must have lingered by the coffee pot for too long because I soon felt a hand on my shoulder. The gesture snapped me from my revere, and I jumped as I fought the urge to grab them by the wrist and slam their face off the table while dislocating his shoulder. Realizing what he had done the chaplain quickly removed his hand and took a step back. "My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you," he explained quickly. "You should try and share more than just the one incident; it may help you come to terms with what you have seen." At this point I wanted to try and break contact, but he was unfortunately between the door and myself.

"I will think about it," I replied defiantly. Turning away to get another cup of coffee must have driven home the fact that I had already had enough conversation because when I finished, he had walked away to chat with some others. I walked out of the church where our meetings took place to the same dark and dreary day that had been present when I arrived. The church was located in a rundown and dismal section of town, and the dark clouds and drizzle did nothing to enhance the abandoned buildings that made up most of the neighborhood.

Unlocking my trucks door as I walked up to the passenger side, I swung it open and unlocked my glove compartment. She was by no means a beautiful vehicle anymore, but I imagine she had been at one point. Rust had invaded her fenders, quarter panels and the bottom of the doors. There were a couple cracks in the windshield and the air conditioning no longer worked. She was still a good truck though and she always got me from point A to point B. I then retrieved my knife, which I stowed in my front right pocket, and my Colt .45. They did not approve of the people in our group owning weapons, they considered us high risk, and I did not want any drama, so I usually locked them securely in my truck.

When I had gotten discharged from the military, they had made me sign a non-disclosure form which required me to attend these meetings once a week. Such a waste of a day, but my monthly stipend was dependent on my compliance, so I would go. It was mostly just their attempt to keep tabs on me and to make sure I did not spill their secrets. The amusing part of all this was that I had no desire to sell them out, I just wanted them to properly honor those in my unit who had died in the incident, which was all of them.

My apartment was about two hours away from the church, so I often had entirely too much thinking time with no real distraction while making the trip. A liquor store was on my way so I would stop and buy a bottle of vodka for my evening, to help deaden the thoughts that now swarmed my mind. Once back at my building, I would trudge up the four flights of stairs that it took to reach my apartment. There was an elevator, but the cramped space made me uncomfortable. The only time I would ever take the elevator was if the woman that lived across the hall from me was arriving home at the same time and would ask for my assistance in carrying her things.