In The Belly Of The Beast

It's kind of fun poaching like this, camping inside this stone hut. Makes me feel like a boy scout again. You can tell someone used to live here but it's ours now. I love this outlaw feeling. Or maybe I'd better say we make our own laws. We have a mission, a purpose, and we got to see it out. Truth be told, that's about all I got anymore.

My name is Lance Corporal Mulroney, and I'm one scared motherfucker. The four of us got separated by a surprise attack and God only knows where the hell we are. Been dark the last four hours of walking when we saw this isolated place where we could hole up. Shit, we could wake up surrounded in the morning by either our guys or the enemy! Not sure where we've been, not sure where we are, not sure where home is. And, man, does that sum up the whole of my life.

I'm just barely hanging on. Nobody knows this. Nobody can. I got so much shit running through my head nonstop, knowing what's real just keeps getting farther and farther away like I'm drifting out to sea. Just like now, I got those same questions: am I in danger or not? Have I made good decisions or bad decisions? Jesus, it's driving me crazy!

Please get me home

It's weird how sometimes they can read your mind. I worked it so everything I'm scared of got pressed down into my belly out of my head. My head was starting to get cloudy and I knew the officers would spot that and have my hide. I was leaning towards saying what I wanted to say instead of what they wanted to hear. That right there is a bear trap, yes sir.

My belly hurts but my head is clear and I give off great answers that are totally convincing. I impressed even myself. But then there's sort of weird after effect, like my head is turning to stone and might get so brittle it's going to snap right off. I can't get that out of my nightmares! But that's when they promoted me up to lance corporal saying they see me taking responsibility. If this is responsibility, I can't take much more or I'll right well explode.

I'm tired as hell. I feel like I haven't slept in a year. But I'm adrenalized like an addict so I can keep functioning for the unit. I swear, if somebody told me I could die right now for my unit I'd do it. I'd die a hero and be free of these goddam questions poking me day and night. I'm so afraid. I'm so afraid I'm a coward. If that happens, no one will have me.

Hendrix, now that guy wasn't afraid of being a coward. He just up and said he was! Man, that guy really does make his own rules. He really does have no fear, not giving a damn what anybody thinks. He only thinks to get out of here alive. And by alive, I mean "whole". Takes a lot of guts to commit to that. Me, I'm too afraid of getting shouted down. Hendrix just shouts back, right there in that hot ass mess tent in front of everyone.

So what the fuck is real?

Am I an idiot coming here like some people write about? Man, I can't face that. We have to be doing some good. It can't all be a waste. It's so dark here. It's like we're in a forgotten hole and people come stick their head in every once in a while but rest of the time it's like we don't exist like a dirty secret. I can't even tell my family what's going on. All this lying, what's going to happen to me 'cause of it?

If I just even bring up stuff like this I get my head bit off. "Not your call, corporal!" But that just fucks me up more. I'd like to think I could simply turn over all my decisions and know I'd be good. That'd be paradise! No more carrying these weights around that are just killing me. I'm dying to tell someone about it but that's certain death if I do. Am I the only one? I must be, no one else got the doubt in their eyes like I do.

But then, we got so many messed up back home. Which ones are those guys? I can't pick them out. Is it me?

Morisson shot himself when he got back and I thought he had it made. Damn, it's a mind fuck here! Who's the real winners and who's the real losers? Morisson's wife was hot, he had money waiting for him, no problems at all. Scares the hell out of me someone like that offs himself. They said he lost interest in everything, had no more will to live. Isn't that what I'm doing now? Just willing myself harder and harder to live. Where's it going to end up?

I had a medic check out my stomach pains but he couldn't find anything direct. I couldn't tell him the real cause was all my worries were balled up in there. I was just hoping against hope he could find something physical to do. It's all this invisible stuff that fucks me the most. I got worried about my cursing the other day. I could hear my school teacher's old voice chiding me for "my language". I thought she was an idiot then but then I got this streak of fear if I cuss not a person alive would think me a moral person ever again. It's like I'm stuck in some sort of madhouse circus.

Why is dawn taking so friggin' long? I feel like I got ants crawling inside me. Get me out of this body! I know what I look like, I've practiced so much. I got my head detached, calm looking and even half smiling, but I'm screaming like hell inside! I'm getting ripped in two and no one can even see it. Stress. Stress. Stress.

I saw a monster man on TV. He said the President knew what he is doing and all we need do is blindly support him no matter what. It's like he was looking right at me when he said it, eyes full of blaming hate. He said the common man is too dumb to know better than any President. I've been trying to tell my self that, that I'm hurting because I don't know all the pieces. But it puts all sorts of miasmic fog in my head trying to figure out what I'm missing when this torment feels so real to me.

I have to say something out loud. "Do you think we're in danger?"

They think I mean about our position and being cut off. But I mean it about the other danger, of not knowing what's real. Am I just setting myself up to be screwed when I get back home? Am I going to have to keep lying like this for the rest of my life???? Why does Hendrix bold self preservation seem like the only moment of light I've had over here? Everyone badmouths the guy. Maybe they don't have his guts either. I feel, way way too guilty to ever get out of here alive.

Sometimes I dare think the unthinkable. It happens just like now, when the dawn won't come and the minutes are hours. I'm wasting my life. My heart soars when I think that. I want to keep on running down that road to freedom. But I'm too afraid to go there all alone. What if I'm wrong? How can I know before I go? I'm fading away, lost in this surreal toxic swirl of shadows and phantoms whispering in my ear, spinning me around in devious laughter, leaving "Yes, sir" the only safe answer I have left. But is it safe? Or am I leading me further into hell's clutches?

What is real in the belly of the beast? Dear God, please somebody tell me before it's too late. I don't want to die!