Into the Nightmare

Into the NIGHTMARE ã 1996

By George William Sweeney

There he was, sitting in his car with a pistol in his hand, parked in the garage. It had been another long day and he was feeling the weight of all his own loneliness and guilt. Bill was alone in the world. He did not deserve to be alone.

He did not know what it was that he had done that was so very terrible, but the thought continued to haunt him that he deserved to die for what he had done.

For weeks he had been having nightmares, not all occurring while he was asleep.

Sometimes, while he would be in a crowd, he would begin to feel nervous, suffocated and in danger. He would get terrible headaches like someone hitting him over the head.

Worse were the nightmares of the look in the eyes of some man as he heard a snap and felt the larynx give way under the grip of his hand on the man's throat. It was shock and fear in those eyes. The fear of those eyes haunted his dreams.

Had he killed someone? How could he have done such?

For years he had been placing himself on the edge. He would laugh in the face of death daring it to take me, taunting it to take me; begging it to take him. Many times death swung its sickle at him, but death would not take him, though he wanted death as a freedom from himself.

Why, other than as a death wish, would he tell a mugger that had come up from behind and placed a knife to his throat: "Put your toy away before I cram it down your throat." Such boldness frightened the attacker, but Bill only got anger that the blade did not cut into his flesh.

The pistol fit so comfortably in the hand. The cold hard steal against his head gave promise of an end to that human shell housing an inhuman soul.

With ease he pulled back on the hammer of the pistol. About to squeeze the trigger, he asked one last question to give full justice to the action. Was there any reason not to die? He had lost his business. He could not keep a relationship without poisoning it and pushing the woman away. He had no friends. He had sunk to the depths of failure in all parts of his life. He could not think of anyone who would miss him, nobody would morn, except to morn another death. He was worth by far more dead than alive.

Shakespeare had asked the question of "to be or not to be?" Now He was asking the same question. What if there was an afterlife? Would he escape himself if he walked through the door of death, or would the same torment follow him, to torture him for eternity? How could he guarantee that he would pass into oblivion?

He placed the pistol back on the seat next to him. He could not give up. Giving up would only condemn him to the torment, if there was a life after death. He would not take the chance that death did not mean an end, but only a change in his existence. As long as he was alive there was a chance he could find his way out of hell. With death, if he did not slide into nothingness, there would never be an escape.

He was not certain what he was doing. He did not really want to be in the doctor's office. If anyone found out they would likely think that he was crazy. But wasn't that part of the reason that he was there. His life was falling apart and he just might be losing his mind.

He was getting more uneasy by the minute. The psychologist was already fifteen minutes late.

The door to the doctor's office opened and Dr. Jones stepped into the waiting room.

"Bill Gregory?" the doctor said as he walked toward Bill.

Bill stood up and took the outstretched hand being offered by the doctor. "Yes."

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Step into my office."

There was no couch in the office. Bill was expecting to see a couch that he would be invited to take. Instead there was the doctor's office, and a group of comfortable chairs in front of the desk.

He was invited to sit down in a chair next to the wall and Dr. Jones took the seat next to him.

"What can I do for you today?"

"I have been a little depressed lately and it is interfering with my ability to work."

"Do you know why you have been depressed?"

"No, I just have been feeling very down and I do not know what to do about it."

"When you say that you are feeling down, or depressed, what do you mean?"

"I am feeling nervous when I am with people. I have not been sleeping well at night. I have been feeling like everything is hopeless."

"How long have you been feeling this way?"

"About a year ago."

"Had anything happened to you around the time that you started to experience depression? For example, the death of a family member, loss of your job, or financial problems?"

"No, not that I can think of. I had a company that I lost and I lost all of my investments, but that did not occur until after I started being depressed."

Dr. Jones picked up a pad of paper from his desk and started to write on it. Without looking up he continued, "I have a couple of test I want you to take. They will help us determine what is happening with you. One is a basic personality test. This will tell us some of what is happening in your mind. The other test will determine the extent of your depression."

Looking up Dr. Jones said, "These tests will take a couple of hours. We can take care of them now or we can schedule you for another time, your choice. After you take the test we can set up another appointment for us to talk again and discuss what we find."

Bill thanked him and was met by Dr. Jones' assistant outside his office. He decided to go ahead and take the test at that time. It did take all of two hours to complete the testing and afterwards he set up a time for next week to come back.

At the next appointment Bill was anxious to find out what the test proved. But instead of being taken straight into the office he was taken to the testing room again for another test for depression.

"How have you done since our last meeting?" said Dr. Jones.

"Alright I guess." Quickly he added. "What did the test show?"

"You are not crazy." Dr. Jones assured him with a smile. "You are moderately depressed. I will write you a prescription for a mild antidepressant to help you deal with that. I also see that on the personality test that you are showing some guilt and anxiety over something which we will need to discover. Is there something in your life that you do not believe you can be forgiven for?"

Bill puzzled over it and slowly responded, "no, nothing that I can think of."

"You said that you are not sleeping very well. Are you having any recurring dreams that tend to bother you in any way?"

"Yes."

After a waiting for Bill to say more Dr. Jones prods him on, "Please tell me about the dream. Tell me what you see and what you feel."

"I am terrified. It hurts so very much. I see someone swinging something at me."

"Who is swinging something at you?"

Bill almost shouted, "I do not know."

He was hugging himself now. His face was distorted up as in severe pain.

"Bill, I want to try something that may help us find out what is happening with you. Would you object to my trying some hypnosis on you?"

"I have to get over this so I can function again. I'll do anything." And he meant it. He did not want to continue having those dreams and the feeling of hopelessness.

He had Bill move to another chair in the corner. It was a very comfortable chair that he could sink down into.

"Before we start, I want to inform you that hypnosis is safe. I am going to help you enter your dream in a way that is safe. You will only be an observer. My purpose is to assist you in going into the dream safely."

"Now, I want you to focus on my pen here." He said as he held up his pen.

"Concentrate on the pen. Notice its form and color. You can observe even the slightest detail about the pen." He slowly moved the pen toward Bill and back to himself again.

Starting to speak slowly he continued. "As you watch the pen, you become relaxed. You can feel the tension leaving your body. You feel the tension leave your legs, your abdomen, your back, your chest, your arms, your shoulders, your neck, your face. You feel very relaxed but fully alert."

"I am going to lift your right arm. When I release it, your arm will remain motionless as stone. Your arm will feel light but immovable."

He reached over to take Bill's wrist and lift the arm. When he released the wrist, the arm was motionlessly suspended in air.

"Close your eyes."

"With your eyes closed you see a door of an elevator in front of you. The door opens and you board the elevator. "

"It slowly begins its descent. In front of you is a display that shows the level the elevator has reached. While you descend, you watch the level numbers showing on the display."

"You see the big 1' showing on display. You are becoming more relaxed with each level you descend. Two, you are sinking deeper into relaxation. Three, you do not feel any tension in your limbs. Four, you are totally relaxed and completely alert."

"The door opens up onto an open field. It is a nice rolling field covered with green grass and wildflowers."

"You walk out of the elevator and onto the field. It is a nice breeze blowing and you can smell the scent of the flowers."

"This is a place of peace for you, a place of safety whenever you need to feel safe. You can come to this place whenever you want to. You can make this place into whatever. You want to make you feel more comfortable. You might want to have a chair or a swing. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

Dr. Jones paused for a few minutes before continuing to speak.

"Now you look off to the side and notice that there is a door. Walk over to the door."

"On the other side of the door is the dream in which someone is swinging something at you. You will be able to go through the door and observe the dream without being a part of it. You will be safe. Anytime you feel too uncomfortable you can leave the room."

"Reach out and open the door, then go through the door."

Bill reached up as opening a door.

"What do you see?" inquired Dr. Jones.

"I can see myself. They are beating me."

"Who is beating you?"

"I do not know."

"They are beating me." Screamed Bill as he pulled his arms around him. Suddenly he grabbed and arched his back, falling out of the chair. He screamed as he then grabbed his head.

Dr. Jones grabbed him and said, "You are back in your safe place."

One of Dr. Jones assistants rushed in and helped him hold Bill.

"You are back in your safe place."

Bill's body relaxed. They helped him back into the chair.

"You are safe again in your safe place. Relaxation is returning to your entire body."

He stayed silent for a few minutes again to allow Bill and himself to relax again.

"You walk back to the elevator and enter. As it ascends, you see the level numbers on the display. Four. You begin to become more alert to your surroundings. Three. As you ascend, your breathing becomes normal. Two. As you become alert, you are unable to remember the details of your dream. It cannot harm you. One. You will not remember any pain but only that you were safe."

"You reach the top and the doors open. You are fully alert. Open your eyes."

Bill opened his eyes and stirred in his seat.

"How do you feel?"

"Sore."

"When I took you into your dream you experienced the reality of the dream and experienced it again in your mind. I believe that your dreams might be a suppressed memory from the manor in which you responded. There is no way to be certain about the reality of dreams or memory but I think we will be able to work to a point that you can view the dream or experience in detail without any adverse effects."

"I want you come back in a few days so that we can continue with hypnosis. I believe that we can go to a time before this event and work our way to what happened in such a way as to be of no trauma to you now. In the mean time I want you to take this prescription. This will help you being able to visit the past without having to relive it. They will also help you sleep."

The next week Dr. Jones helped him relax as he went down the elevator shaft. As last time he relaxed more and more as he went deeper into hypnosis. As before he stayed a few minutes in his "safe place" before moving to the door.

As he opened the door, Dr. Jones voice faded off.

He was again thirteen years old and at the Boy Scout Court of Honor. He had just been awarded the Medal of Merit for saving a life. The reporter had pulled him off to the side for some questions.

Chief Sanchez was glaring at them. He was upset that the reporter did not care about his son's awards. Had he not just received his Life Scout? Jerry was the youngest boy to achieve that rank, except for Bill who was the same age. Bill was always stealing Jerry's light. Even in martial arts Bill made black belt in only a year while his son was only advanced two belts. The instructor even had the gall to suggest that they sponsor Bill to go to a special camp from which the competitors for the Olympics were selected.

After the Court of Honor some of the scouts had exhibits of their work for merit badges. The admiral was showing great interest in Bill's work. He had just found out tonight that the admiral was Bill's mentor and advisor. He could not get the admiral to talk with him much less his son.

The Chief thought about it all night. Bill and Jerry were always competing for the same thing at the same time, but they never argued or stopped being very good friends. They were always spending time together. Why could not his son see that he could not allow a civilian to beat him?

The two of them were working toward Eagle Scout at the same time. Jerry had to get it first, no matter what. He could not allow a civilian show up his son. He could do something about it as his being the scoutmaster.

The next week, at the Scout Troop meeting, Bill asked Chief Sanchez for more merit badge cards.

"I cannot give you any more right now." Said Sanchez.

Bill was puzzled, "Why not?"

"You have been getting too many merit badges and we are concerned that you are not learning the material."

"How long before I can work on more merit badges?"

"We believe you should wait six months."

Bill walked off disappointed. He was wanting to earn his eagle as soon as possible. That was his goal to earn it before his fifteenth birthday. If he had to wait for six months before earning more merit badges, he would not be able to meet his goal.

He went home and asked his father, who was a member of the Troop Committee. "Has the troop committee decided that I should not work on any more merit badges for six months?"

"Of course not, what do you mean?"

"Chief Sanchez said that it had been decided that I was not learning anything when I worked on my merit badges. They had decided that I should wait for six months to be certain that I am learning something from the merit badges I am earning."

"I have not heard anything about it," he said with anger in his voice. "I am going to check on it right now."

Bill's father called Chief Sanchez right then. Bill could not hear any of the conversation except for the end where he heard his father saying: "Well, we will discuss this matter with the troop committee!"

A committee meeting was being held the following week. Both Bill's father and Sanchez went to argue their case. When Mr. Gregory got home, he told him that he could continue working on his merit badges.

At the next troop meeting he requested some more cards for merit badges.

Sanchez said, "You already have one merit badge card. You have to finish with that one before I give you another. You will also have to tell me what you plan to work on so we know what you are doing."

Bill did not argue. He did not even bring it up with his father since he was going to meet with the merit badge counselor the next day to finish another citizenship badge. Then he was going to be returning to Virginia for a couple of weeks for a vacation.

When in Virginia the family visited some friends. Sam was the scoutmaster of the troop there and they were going to be going on a camp out that weekend. He invited Bill to join them, they were going to be working on merit badges, such as camping and canoeing. Bill was thrilled to go. He enjoyed camping.

He had a great time and he was able to get signed off on three more merit badges, camping, conservation and canoeing. Sam gave him a letter to verify Bill's achievement.

Sanchez was livid. "I am not going to accept the merit badge cards. You are only allowed to work on one at a time. You stole them from the cabinet."

"I did not! I cannot even get into the cabinet."

"You stole the cards and I am not going to allow you to get the merit badges."

When Bill told his father, he immediately called the chairman of the troop committee. Mr. Gregory told him that Sanchez refused to accept the merit badge cards from Bill and that he accused Bill of stealing the cards. He explained that Bill had gotten three of the cards from Sam in Virginia and he already had the other card.

Bill's father took the cards from Bill and told him that he was going to be giving them to the committee chairman directly and he would get some more cards for him.

He took the cards to the next committee meeting and gave them to the chairman in front of Sanchez. He continued to insist that some cards were stolen from the cabinet but could not explain how Bill could have possibly of gotten into the cabinet when it was kept locked at all times.

Things went fairly smoothly for Bill for about a month. That is, he did not have any more conflict with Sanchez. He earned another merit badge and turned it in to the chairman through his father. The only thing was that his friends started to avoid him. He found out that there was a rumor that he had stolen some things. He was also rumored to have beaten up on someone with a stick and that he was telling lies on some of his friends.

Then he was informed by the assistant scoutmaster that he was going to be kicked out of the troop for being a troublemaker and that he was not to be coming back.

In the next committee meeting Sanchez had brought a few people to tell the committee how Bill was being a disruption to the troop. He was a bad apple that had to be removed before he spoiled the entire troop.

However, the members did not believe the testimony. One of the members knew the boys that boys that Sanchez had brought. He told the committee that these boys had both been picked up on vandalism recently and he had personally observed them violating several troop rules when he was the scoutmaster. He had told the boys not to come back while he was the scoutmaster.

The assistant scoutmaster that Sanchez had brought was not known by anyone but when questioned he started to contradict himself.

It did not take the committee long to make their decision. They were not going to remove Bill from the troop. Several of them knew him and knew that he was not a spoiled apple.'

Everything Sanchez was trying was failing. He had to do something to get rid of Bill.

The next week there was a new boy in the troop. He was placed in Bill's patrol. During patrol meetings the new boy got into an argument with Bill over his throwing trash on the floor.

He threw a punch at Bill and connected square on the bridge of the nose. He then started pushing Bill to get him to fight. As he was winding up to hit Bill again, Bill backhanded him at the back of the jaw. That slap lifted that boy up and over a bench and into the wall. He was not wanting to fight any more when he got up again. Bill did not want to fight anyway so he just went home.

It was found out later that Bill had broken the boy's jaw and a couple of ribs. The boy attempted to have the police arrest him for assault but when the police looked into the matter they found that the boy had started the entire thing and that Bill only hit him once, not the kicking that the boy had claimed.

The next week someone claimed that he had seen Bill stilling something and putting it in his locker. Again the police quickly dismissed the case, Bill had been away with his parents at the time the crime was supposed to have occurred. Besides, the stolen items were found in another locker that belonged to someone else that had been off base.

For the next camp out there was going to be a hike out to the camp. Bill was to go with a new assistant scoutmaster to lead the group. The assistant scoutmaster knew a route that Bill was not familiar with so he just followed.

They went out to the outer parts of the base. They were on the top of a ridge when the assistant told Bill that they needed to go down the hill. It was a steep hill so he suggested to Bill that he go down first to check the trail and be certain that there was a trail at the bottom. He told Bill that they were going to cut across the salt flat and pick up a trail on the other side.

He slid his way down the hill until he got into the brush. As he was walking down, he tripped on something and fell. He fell right into the cactus and rolled through the patch. He had cactus spines in every inch of his body.

The assistant called down, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I just fell into some cactus."

"Can you finish climbing down to the trail?"

"Yes."

"Good, we will meet you down at the bottom."

Bill moved very slowly to the bottom. There was no trail. The salt flats started at the base of the hill. He waited for an hour. He tried to remove all of the cactus spines that he could get hold of. It was getting dark when he decided to continue along the route that the assistant had told him about.

Every move hurt but he continued. He had gone about a hundred yards into the salt flat when he remembered something. The salt flats around the outside of the base were used as mine fields.

His stomach went up into his throat. He looked behind him to see if he could see a fence and the inverted triangles that indicated a mine field. He could just barely see the fence several yards from where he entered the salt flat. On it he saw the outline of a triangle.

He suddenly found it very hard to breathe. He felt his entire body shaking.

Slowly he tip toed back to the hill. He collapsed once he got back off the flat.

He was out for he did not know how long. The stars were out and there was no moon. He painfully made his way around the hill until he did find a trail. He followed it back to a road. He in turn followed that until he found some marines on patrol. They gave him a lift to their camp and from there he was given a ride to his camp. His parents were there already. The assistant had told everyone that he assumed that Bill had already headed for camp so he proceeded since it was getting dark.

It took the entire night to get all of the spines out of him.

This near brush with being blown up on the salt flats scared his mother. She wanted him to quit the troop. She was afraid that he was going to get killed.

Bill did not want to quit. "I am not going to quit. If I quit, I will always be quitting when things get a little rough. If I can make it through this situation, I can overcome any problem."

His father was suspicious that it was no accident. He got a couple of his men to keep an eye on Bill, but they were to stay out of sight.

Accidents appeared to be attracted to Bill. As he was walking under a cliff there was a sudden rock slide. He found a scorpion in his sleeping bag.

One day he was walking along and was stopped by five guys. Without warning the lead one motioned for the others to surround him and then took a swing. Bill was ready. He moved slightly out of the way and grabbed his arm. He flipped that man onto one of the others. Two of them caught his arms from either side. He quickly bent forward and then came back up with his fist, catching both on the nose. One of them let go of his arm while the other still hung on. He kicked another in the groin as he was coming up. Then he twisted around so that guy holding his arm was unable to hold his grip while Bill tripped him while putting his elbow to the back of his head. The fifth guy was in front of him now and threw a punch that Bill managed to block. The first guy caught him in the ribs from behind. He fell forward against the fifth man. He then kicked the first in the knee as he was coming in to take another kidney shot. He boxed the fifth guy's ears and when he let him go he gave him a knee into the stomach.

Everyone was down, he chooses to go for a quick exit rather than continue. He left them behind screaming that they were going to get him.

He was very cautious at the next scout meeting. He had too many close calls and he was worried that those guys might show up anywhere. As he was walking between the two buildings that belonged to the troop someone stepped out of the shadows. It was the assistant scoutmaster.

Just then someone else came out of one of the buildings.

The assistant moved close and whispered, "You are worth five hundred dollars to me, dead." He walked off.

Bill decided that it might be getting a little too dangerous to keep going every week. He stayed home for the next couple of weeks. Then he decided to go scuba diving with a friend of his mother's. They went to a beach close to where the scouts camped. He did not know of any camping to be taking place that weekend.

They had a good dive, but as they were coming out of the water there were a couple of scouts that ran off to the camp when they saw Bill. It was only minutes when Sanchez came out. There was surprise on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Sanchez asked accusingly.

"I was scuba diving."

"I did not know you knew how."

Gary jumped in, "He not only knows how but is certified as a professional diver and is good at it as well."

Sanchez turned and stomped off without saying another word.

The next week he went back to a scout meeting for patrol leaders, out at the camp site. Afterwards he saw Sanchez alone so he went over to talk with him.

"Why, Why are you so much against me."

"You are hurting my son. You cannot keep showing him up."

"That does not make any sense. What is the real reason that you want me dead?"

"With an ashen face he whispered, "I am afraid...."

Just then someone came from behind and hit him with something knocking him down. He rolled and got back on his feet. There were several men surrounding him. It looked like they all had bats. As one came at him from the front, another caught him in the back over the kidneys. He grabbed that spot and yelled in pain. Another guy clipped him in the head. A third blow took his legs out from under him. Then there was another stroke to the head, knocking him unconscience.

They kept hitting him until they were certain he was dead. Sanchez smiled as he stood over Bill's body. He took pleasure in kicking him.

He had his men put the body in the back of the truck and haul it to the cliffs. They carried the body up to the top of the cliff and threw it off so it would look like an accident.

The salt water brought Bill to again as he was being tossed against the rocks. He ached all over and felt like he might pass out again at any moment.

He pushed off from the rocks enough to keep from being knocked into the rocks again. The current carried him up the shoreline until he reached Blind Beach. It was hidden in a little cove within the cliffs.

He swam into the cove and crawled up on the shore before passing out again.

It was dark when he came to again. The tide had come in so that it was lapping against his feet. He got up and moved up further up the cove so that he would be out of the breeze.

After the sun came up, he started to move around again. He was feeling very dehydrated and hungry. He found a stick to use as a tool to knock open some barrel cactus so that he could eat the innards. He sucked the juice out of the heart of the cactus and ate some of it. He also ate some cactus apples.

Only after eating did he begin to think about what had happened. He had been a fool to go alone to talk with Sanchez. He was not going to make that mistake again. When he got back to civilization, he would need to go to the police. But, first he would need to go to the hospital. His eyesight was blurred and he had abdominal tenderness. At least he likely had a concussion and a lot of bruises. Otherwise he felt like anyone else that had just been nearly beaten to death.

He had only been to this area of the base a couple of times. Each time it was reached from Hidden Beach, next to the scout camp. He did not want to go back there. They could still be there. If they caught him again, they would not likely make the mistake of not being certain that he was dead.

He took off up the valley until he reached the tank trail that they followed from Hidden Beach. He took the trail in the other direction, to the north. He made certain to stay out of sight. He did not know who was involved with Sanchez and his gang. It took till almost sunset to walk the almost 5 miles until he could find a phone. He called for an ambulance and the police. He did not want to waste any time in getting Sanchez arrested.

The police met him at the hospital and took a statement. However, they could not do anything. Sanchez had told them that after Bill had talked with him for a few minutes that he went climbing up the cliffs. He and the others with him all swore that Bill had gone alone and they later heard a scream. They were not able to find him.

Sanchez was brought to the hospital without informing him the reason. His face was white when he saw Bill walking from the x-ray room. The policeman noticed his, and his assistant's reaction.

But there was no evidence to contradict what Sanchez had told the police.

The police concluded that with Bill's concussion that his story was possibly a hallucination only. They concluded that his injuries were sustained falling off the cliff.

Sanchez went into Bill's room and said: "I am glad to see you alive, I thought that fall off the cliff killed you."

Bill pushed the button for the nurse and responded. "I am sure you are sorry to see that I am still alive. I guess that this ruins your day."

The nurse walked in and Bill continued: "I am tired so it is time for you to leave."

As Sanchez turned to leave his assistant said with a determined glare, "We will see you later."

Over a month went by. Two weeks were spent in the hospital. Bill started to think that Sanchez had given up. It was no way he was going back to the scout troop.

He decided to go sailing, something he enjoyed because it allowed him to get away and just daydream without interruption.

He spent several hours out on the water before hunger persuaded him to return to shore.

He finished tying up the boat and was walking toward the snack bar when he was grabbed from behind and drug into an alley. It was the assistant and some of the same goons that had jumped him before. They had him securely in his grip so that he could not get away. Not all of his bruises were healed either so he did not quite have his normal strength.

"I told you that we would meet again." The assistant said with a sneer. He pulled out a knife and let its light reflect into Bill's eyes.

"This time we are going to make certain that you are dead."

He started to walk forward swinging the knife from side to side.

Suddenly a girl turned the corner. She surprised the assistant who quickly turned around and jabbed the knife up into her stomach. Her mouth gapped open with surprise as she slowly slumped down to the ground.

Bill screamed, "NO!"

He surprised the thugs that were holding him and was able to break free from them. He rammed into the assistant with his shoulder causing both to tumble to the ground. They got up and faced off. The assistant took several slashes that missed their target. He yelled at his friends to grab Bill but neither moved. A third friend that he had not seen came out of a shadow and hit him with a glancing blow against his head. He stumbled back with everything momentarily getting dark. Again the guy swung but this time Bill stepped to the side, grabbing the man's arm and punching just under the armpit. As he fell away, the assistant lunged. Bill grabbed his arm and with his other hand thrust his hand into the man's throat and grasping the voice box. As he swung him around, Bill tripped him to bring him down on his back. There was a pop as the voice box was crushed in his grip.

He dropped the knife and just stared at Bill in shock as he gasped for breath. It seamed minutes before the life left his eyes and the struggle for air ended.

Bill let go of him and stood up. He released a long full primal scream and an animal that had just killed its pray.

When he turned, he could find everyone else was running away. He walked to the girl's body and lifted her up into his arms. She was dead. Why did she have to show up at that time? Because he survived, she was now dead.

He was still bending over her limp body when the police arrived. They concluded that there was nothing left for them to do. The girl's killer was dead. Bill was let go because it was clearly self defense.

They could not find any evidence connecting Sanchez to the attempts on Bill, it was just a personal grudge that the assistant had.

He tried to talk about it with his parents, to tell them about the horror he experienced. But it upset his mother so much that he could not talk about it. It seamed so unreal to even him that he forced himself not to think of it.

He sat at his desk in the darkened room. The only light he had was the lamp on his desk. I made him feel separated from the world as he began to write….

"After months of attempting to remember the nightmares that have held me back from living, I feel like I have gone through hell inside. I have begun to look into my soul and found it empty. Cleared of everything of worth to being human, emotion, feeling, love, joy, all that separates man from the animals that roamed the jungle. Like an animal of the jungle I had no emotion, I could not feel anything but pain and rage."

"Only when I started to talk about my nightmares, my flashbacks, have I been able to start to free myself from the grip of terror that has tormented my mind. I am hoping that now with starting to write down what I can remember of what happened in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba that I may finally be able to let go of it. I may even be able to regain some of my soul, and again begin a life. But, can a lost soul ever be again found. I do not know. At least now I can stand and proclaim that I am human. I am a man, not that animal that I had become so many years ago."

"Each page becomes my therapist, listening to me tell the story. Each page reflects back to me what I am, assuring me that I am OK, I survived. Try as they did, they never defeated me. They robbed me of every strip of humanity that I possessed, but they could not conquer me. I won, even in my defeat, and now I gain my ultimate victory, not over those that hunted me, but over myself."

"I do not know if any of this really happened, but what does it matter."

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