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it in his leg and throughout his body. Instinctively, he curled into a fetal position. He wanted the noise to stop. He wanted to be somewhere else away from the war. He could feel death whispering in his ears.</p><p id="7f09">But then he slowly began to wake up. Or was he really dying? The pain was receding though the horror and fear remained. And the frightful sounds of war did not diminish at all. Was he still in Fallujah? Was he slowly waking up in heaven? Was his life over? But his body was still shaking in fear so he must still be in his body…</p><p id="7825">He awoke with a start. He shook his head then wiped his hand over his face. It was covered with sweat. Turning on the bedside lamp, he saw that he was in his bedroom back home in Oregon. He was not back in Fall

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ujah. He was safe and he was not hurt yet again. Yet the bombs and gunfire continued unabated.</p><p id="399e">Spotting the calendar on the wall by his dresser he realized that it was the fourth of July and it was fireworks that he was hearing. He could not relax but he felt a tiny bit of relief knowing that he was home in America on a day in early July when the entire country celebrated with great joy the horrible, horrible, horrible sounds of war.</p><p id="3d33">Jason grabbed his pillow and put it over his face and ears. But that was not enough to make him feel better.</p><p id="a735"><i>Copyright by <a href="https://readmedium.com/white-feather-archive-index-c95167f7dbaf"><b>White Feather</b></a>. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction.</i></p></article></body>

Awakening From a Fourth of July Dream

The horror was very real

Image by Alp Cem (Pixabay)

Jason Johnstone was taking a nap. Slowly, he slipped into a recurring dream that he had been having for many years. The dream was a re-playing of that horrific day back in Fallujah when he lost his left foot and part of his left leg.

It was a great battle. Bombs and gunfire were going off incessantly. The noise was unbearable. Just hearing it his body was racked with pain. He could feel it in his leg and throughout his body. Instinctively, he curled into a fetal position. He wanted the noise to stop. He wanted to be somewhere else away from the war. He could feel death whispering in his ears.

But then he slowly began to wake up. Or was he really dying? The pain was receding though the horror and fear remained. And the frightful sounds of war did not diminish at all. Was he still in Fallujah? Was he slowly waking up in heaven? Was his life over? But his body was still shaking in fear so he must still be in his body…

He awoke with a start. He shook his head then wiped his hand over his face. It was covered with sweat. Turning on the bedside lamp, he saw that he was in his bedroom back home in Oregon. He was not back in Fallujah. He was safe and he was not hurt yet again. Yet the bombs and gunfire continued unabated.

Spotting the calendar on the wall by his dresser he realized that it was the fourth of July and it was fireworks that he was hearing. He could not relax but he felt a tiny bit of relief knowing that he was home in America on a day in early July when the entire country celebrated with great joy the horrible, horrible, horrible sounds of war.

Jason grabbed his pillow and put it over his face and ears. But that was not enough to make him feel better.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction.

War
Fourth Of July
PTSD
Fiction
Psychology
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