The story of a girl told through diary entries DISCLAIMER Deals with mental problems.

She was black, to the Vietnamese, the color death, but to the soldiers she was a guardian angel. Death clouded the jungles like a morning fog, and she could sense it before it burned off after the heat of battle or the intensity of the morning sun. She could hear death, lurking in the jungles, sense their traps laid upon their paths, smell them shifting through the undergrowth before they could attack. So, when the war was over, how were they supposed to leave their savior behind? [the description isn't so great, but I'll fix it later]