The Unseen Nightmare

This is a short story by an ally, that's what he would call our relationship, and fellow writer Jay Squared. I thought I would post it for fun.

Jim gathered his thoughts as he waited for the doctor. His mind drifted back to Lashkar Ga. Back to Afghanistan. He thought of Bravo team. Jim had been in Afghanistan for one tour already and had signed up for another one. He wasn't in the Marines for the fame or the "job training" that military ads promoted. He wasn't qualified as an engineer even after his final tour. At least this is what was printed on his papers. Jim was in the Marines for money, plain and simple. College was unaffordable and his G.P.A wasn't up to par. So the Marines seemed like a decent choice. Jim had always been unable to make discerning choices. What school should he attend? Which girl should he date? Where was he going in life-that was the big one. But Jim left those decisions to his parents, to the girls, to his job coach. Jim's life never felt like his own, he was simply in for the ride. Like a man in the front seat of the roller coaster, he couldn't control his life, so he would enjoy the ride. And if a problem came up, there were plenty of rails to keep him on track. That's what made the Marines appealing, follow your orders and you'll live for a few more hours. But that didn't help Bravo team. Didn't protect them from the that suicide bomber disguised in one of their uniforms. But those rails saved him though, only him. Yes those regulations they drilled into Jim until he began to weep protected him, but not his eyes. In an instant, Jim went from a 20/20 to a 20/200 in three seconds. His regiment got the worst of the blast. In a way, and this is what knotted his stomach, Jim was glad he was behind his team during the blast. Thankful that the shrapnel that had ripped through his teammates had only punctured his eyes so he was spared from witnessing blood and chunks of flesh flying at him. He could feel the blast though. Oh yes, he still drifted back to being thrown against the Humvee and his uniform coated with blood. His camouflage mixing with the blood, dying his uniform to a disgusting reddish orange. The smell of smoke mixed with wet iron. He drifted back to Lashkar Ga every night for the last month and a half. He filled his days in the hospital with multiple showers to wash off that imaginary gore. Some nights he would wake in a cold sweat and bolt out of bed. He would stumble his way to the shower in his room. If he fell, he would crawl as he bruised his hands and knees trying to find the threshold to the bathroom. Jim would spend the rest of the night with the shower on, sometimes with his clothes, sometimes without. The nurse would find him soaked in a fetal position the next day in a fetal position. His clothes transparent and hugging his skin as the ice-cold water pelted his body. The nurse would attempt to rouse him from his slumber which would cause him to jolt awake screaming. Sometimes he would lash out at the personnel and have to be restrained but the conclusion was always the same. He would carried by orderlies if he was aggressive, to the bed as he bawled his eyes like a lost child. A lost child. That was what he felt like for the past six weeks. Lost in a world of darkness. But his mind was a different case. That last screen of his friends disappearing into a fire ball the size of an SUV engrained into his eyes before they went dark. On some really bad nights, he could see their faces. Some of them had enough time to allow shock to spread on their faces, some caught between fright and confusion. But the worst were the dreams when they were smiling at him as the fireball grew in leaps and bounds. Bravo team had become Jim's family, his brotherhood. They were the fraternity he had always dreamed of joining when he went to college. That was the plan for Jim. Learn what he could, enjoy the friendship, and enjoy the friendship he missed out in Columbus High. In an instant, that hope was taken from him by a man with C-4 strapped to his groin. And that loss was burnt into his eyes.
Jim was shaken from his musings by the doctor's baritone voice.
"How are you feeling today private?"
"Fine." Jim answered.
It was a lie and they both knew it. Jim heard a sigh that accompanied Dr. Wendell whenever he was frustrated. The two of them had played this game since Jim had been admitted into Dr. Wendell's hospital.