Monologue

By Shanzae Asif

I hear him bellowing commands in the corridors, in my room. I hear every word echoing through the walls and I can’t escape because no matter where I run, every sound reverberates in my head. It haunts me and follows me everywhere screaming drill instructions menacingly. Sometimes, I hear the deafening exploding of bombs. Screams and shots being fired everywhere and it all returns in a flash. Blood. I bathed in it yesterday before going to bed but I guess I forgot to turn the tap off as my bathroom floor was flooded in red. Well, I’ll just use it to paint the walls of this room as they look pretty bland any way.

Most nights, I hide myself under the covers, nearly suffocating my breath to elude him for he might hear the sound of me breathing. I lie frozen like a rock, not moving an inch because he might sense me. The putrid odour of piss and the damp mattress make me nauseous under the sheets but I have little choice. If I move the sergeant will find me. He patrols the corridors all night, waiting for sounds he might catch, poor souls to take back to the war. That bastard rejoices in death, I once saw him make love to the corpse of a Vietnamese whore in Saigon. I know he’s come to take me back but I won’t go. I won’t go back to hell. I won’t go back to Vietnam.

I feel strangely light headed right now, there’s a new voice which seems oddly familiar. Oh it’s Major Richards, finally! I know he’ll protect me! Old Richards is a good man but how did he find me? He’s shouting my name; he will save me so I must do as he says. I must lock and load my rifle. I must shoot myself now.