For me its always different characters and the scenery may change, but the emotion are always rising to the surface. He wakes up every day with sand in the back of his throat and the prickly touch of limbs half slumbering. He sits up and places his calliced feet on the damaged dry wood flooring. He swears he could walk through razorwire on those things, and he'd do it for those people who mean something to him. The room is damp with sweat and heat combining to make a sweltering heat that makes him choke and cough every time he stands up. He makes sense of where he's at in those first few moments between comatose nightmares and grasping reality. Unfortunately today he's lost his way. He looks around at his feet and sees the pants he has on arent familiar to him. "What the...?" He lookes at the shirt on the floor and reads the name tag. U.S. ARMY. He doesnt know where he's at although he knows the objects surrounding him. He feels overwhelmed with confusion and panic. He takes a seat on the beding behind him as the hairs on his neck stand on end. "Ok...I know Im not losing my mind." Its funny when a person cant grasp whats happening around them, how they will fight theirselves to rationalize it.
He places his hands over his eyes and thinks about where he had been before he went to sleep. Dreams. Thats all he remembers. His eyes slide back above his forehead and to the back of his neck, as he stares at the floor in shock. "I cant remember? No...That makes no sense. Calm down, you know you've been here before. Think about it." Flashes of his dreams come back to him and the image of a boy no older than twelve covered in blood laying lifelessly on the floor, burns into the frontmost part of his brain. He thinks of the event a little harder, and expands the image to reveal the boys head cocked sideways and tilted back, with his eyes looking against the floor and his mouth agap. His body is contourted in a manner that a marionnete puppet would lay if the strings were cut. One leg is turned outward as the other one lay straight with the foot pidgeon-toed. He doesnt realize that he still doesnt remember where he is. The man is too focused on the image haunting him to take notice the voices growing closer to the building. He immerses himself in the image even further and sees standing around the shattered boy are six men, including himself, in miltiary gear.
In walks a man in a military uniform with an air about him that demands respect and loyalty. He stops short after walking into the room and looks at the man sitting on the bed staring blankly at the floor. "Hey soldier!" He snaps out of his trace and looks up at the man standing before him. his eyes dart from the mans face, to what seems to be his last name, to a symbol on his chest. "Yes sergeant?" He looks away from the man staring past his legs in confusion as to how that came to his mind. "Are you going to get up anytime soon? We got a mission in fifteen. Move your ass." The man walks out of the room and leaves him still staring at the same spot as before he left. A flood of images and memories slam into his brain hard enough to almost make it hurt. "He's my Section Chief...I work for him. Known him for almost four years now. Im a squad leader." He stands up feeling a little bit lightened of the burden of not knowing who he is. He takes a deep breath and puts on his Shirt and boots, grabs his hygiene kit and walks outside to head towards the sink. He's looking around and seeing all the people hurrying about. He gets to the bathroom building and places his kit on top of the sink and pulls out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He sees something move in front of him as he's preparing to brush his teeth, and he looks up to find someone else staring back at him that he doesnt recognize. He understand the man staring back at him is his own reflection, the only problem is he doesnt recognize himelf. Its funny how you wont think about what you look like until your reminded of it. The vision of the him in the dream and the one thats staring back at him are two totally different people.
His eyes dance across his face as if he was memorizing it, or trying to recall something resembling that of the person he once was. The door slams and he looks to see a freindly looking man walking towards him smiling. "Hey Vepner! Ready to roll?" He watches the man stop next to him and start washing his face. "Y..Yeah..." Everything comes back to him of who he is and what he does for a living. The man standing next to him finishes up and wipes off his face. "Ah! Now that's refreshing!", he says smiling. He gives Vepner a pat on the back and walks out. Vepner looks back at the mirror and suddenly he feels a rush of emotion overwhelm him. The dream of the boy laying lifelessly comes back to him, for the last time, in full force. The boy lays there, his chest jerking in short shallow breaths, his wide eyes begin to roll into the back of his head as his arms lay beside him and his hands are struggling to hold onto something. The Vepner in the dream stands next to the boy as he watches him die and the other five men walk up to stand next to him. Vepner stares at himself in the mirror and breaks down crying all the while the images of the dream progress to the final moments before he wakes. The boys body becomes lifeless and his face changes into one that the young Vepner recognizes. Unwavering, not effected by the change he looks down on the boy to see the face of himself as a boy. The men just watch .. they turn and walk away leaving the Young Vepner standing there staring upon himself. Cold, hardened feeling himself as if he was dead...
Vepner controls himself as he moves from a blubbering sob to a whimper until he became composed. He stands up straight taking his hands off the sink and wipes his tears away and washes his face. He takes a deep sigh and places his things back into the bag before looking at himself in the mirror again. "Yeah....I'm ready. He says to himself nodding his head and walks out the door calmly, shutting the door behind him.
