My heart is racing, nearly out of my chest. The dry, yellow grass lies dead beneath my feet and I see nothing but thick, white smoke clouding my vision, while I step further into the nightmare called a battle field. The memories I left behind play over, and over again in my head, as I watch hundreds of people die right in front of me. With lifeless bodies surrounding me, screams echoing behind my trail of thought, and no idea what’ll happen next, I run. It seems like the entire world is chasing me and there’s nothing I can do. This is my life now.

I jump up to see a pair of eyes staring up at me and I realize my face is wet, probably from all the crying.

“Was it the nightmares again?” asks Dave, and I nod.

The nightmares aren’t news to Dave. They’ve been going on for over 10 years now, each leaving me terrified, screaming, and wishing the next night they would stop.

“We’re going home tomorrow,” he starts again when I don’t say anything. I wipe my tears and wonder how much they’ve all changed since I left.

“I can’t believe we made it,” I said, “though nothing seems right anymore.”

A cold shiver strikes my body, as the thought of war pops back into my mind. Everything we went through; the pain and suffering of seeing innocent people die. How will we ever forget that and the millions of other terrible things that have happened?

“It’ll be okay,” Dave says, as if he knew what I was thinking, “go get some rest before morning. You’ll see your family soon.”

He walks back to his bed and though the room stays silent, I can tell that neither of us is prepared for the questions waiting to be asked back at home. The years that went by have changed us, turned us into completely new people. They won’t understand why we’ll be waking up stunned from the nightmares or why we’ll jump at the first sound, alarmed. They just won’t get it.

“Oh but…”  I hear someone say, assuming its Dave and that he’s talking to me, “if anyone asks, tell them we’re fine.”

He was right. The most important thing is that we’re safe. Safe from the piercing sound of gunshots, tugging at our ears, safe from the constant fear of losing our lives by doing something wrong, and are now going back to the warmth of our homes and family. We have survived.