I think I died. There are times when I feel that I am waiting for the final seconds of my life to pass. Its creepy; my dreams are more vivid than my days.
When I sleep; I always wake from the same dream; I am sitting, patiently waiting, at the casualty collection point with one of the sniper team members.
He died that night; he was cut in half. I’ve been sitting at the same location for 9 years. Listening to familiar screams of panic, pain, and fear; dizzy from a nasty bump to my head; intoxicated by the odor of fuel and blood. I am no further from this tragic event than I was the night of 04Oct08; it’s always as if it just happened. I cover my ears from the deafening roar of the main rotors smashing against earth and flesh. I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the reality of what was experienced.
I know what’s next; darkness. I wake to silence and try to rationalize why I would be there in the first place. I’ve never been able to understand why I would be sitting next to a corpse; unless I was dead too…