* * * * *
Sitting in this dingy, uninviting place with the heat swarming past my nose, carrying the stench of old rotting bodies. I am not fazed by the distant sounds of gunshots, followed by the desperate screams of an innocent bystander, just another gruesome affect of the ugly war. Talk passes between me and Thao, a man that has recently become my only outlet for decent conversation. Although we have such different beliefs and views, we somehow manage to accept each other. Somehow our topic of conversation always returns to the war that currently rages between here and America. That is another thing that we will never agree on, his views always contradict mine. Today I must have had more guts than before, as I tried to share with him a belief I have carried for a while; “I feel sorry for America, my sympathy lies only with them as their country isn’t killing innocent people that have no business in the war. Whereas ours kills them without a second thought.”
The shock on his face said it all, as his eyes stare into mine with a hideous frown, confusing me as to what I had said wrong.
“Don’t you ever mention that again! You could be slaughtered for making such a comment. You’re lucky only I heard!”
Awkward silence immediately fills the room, as our conversation seems to be cut short by his rude arrogance. That silence is soon overpowered by military men marching, stomping towards their next destination, probably being ordered from higher rankings. I wanted to leave but not into their company. My mind raced through ideas, so I decided to leave through the back route, not knowing entirely which way to go – I just had to get out from there. I needed to get clear from that place without being seen by the dreaded soldiers.
I’m walking along the backstreets, clinging to their inviting shadows, hiding me away from the reality of what a mess I am in. Voices enter my mind, making me more aware - more nervous. As I look up, hoping to see a blue clear sky, I realise I should be nervous. I’m being chased by helicopter. Their speed indicates their final objective – to kill me. As I turn to face an alleyway, this seems to be the perfect spot to lay low. My knees ache as I sub consciously fall to the ground, my intention being to sit. I reach into my pocket and pull out the crumpled photo that has become my most prized possession. My attention draws first towards my little girl Sophia, I will never forget her, she was always so full of life, chatty, and enthusiastic. In the photo she is smiling – the happiness on her face is glowing. She is wearing her unforgettable red coat as always. My peaceful thoughts are interrupted abruptly by scuffles of rubber soles on the floor behind me. I rise to my blistered feet and stagger away – the noises decrease in intensity as I get further into the bleak darkness.
I emerge from the formidable alleyways, hoping that I am far enough across the city. I hear nothing. Instead of a relief the silence makes me uneasy, there is never such peace on the streets of Vietnam. Around me windows are smashed and blown out, glass sections scatter the ground, making it harder to walk in my bare feet. I pace to the centre of the road, hoping to get a better view, checking for soldiers. All of a sudden, I hear guns loading and armed men surrounding me. I’m trapped. I jump from foot to foot, the possibility of them catching me increasing slowly. They close in on me, faces taught and ready to arrest. Turning in circles trying in vain to keep an eye on everyone of them. As they get closer one pushes me towards another, all of them pushing. I get grabbed from behind and wrestled into what I assume to be handcuffs, men coming at me from all angles. My eyes blur as the pressure of what might happen gets to me. I feel a cold item being pressed to just above my eye. I want to scream that it wasn’t my fault; I meant nothing by my comment. The world is rotating around me as I get more and more giddy. I collapse to the floor, words and images all making my head hurt more. I can feel my eyelids getting heavy, as they beg me to close and simply give in to the pain I am feeling, to let the solace of the darkness help me. Soldiers pull me one way and another, but the only thought entering my mind, as I let sleep consume me, is if this mistake Theo has made could in due course prevent me from ever seeing my beautiful girl in her battered red coat?
* * * * *
I wake with a jolt, my previous pain haunting me almost as bad as the current. I call out for anyone to assist me. Sweat takes over my body, soaking the sheets beneath me, my heart pounds, desperate for air that I have somehow been deprived of. So long seems to pass before doctor’s swarm at my sides, more than I need. I divulge all my questions at once, eager for them to be answered. But they don’t come out as I wish for them to sound because the doctors just stare in confusion at my rambling mouth. I beg and plead for them to understand as they produce a needle, persuading me that I need to calm down. I don’t care about being calm I just need to see her; I need to see my Sophia. Words must not matter anymore as against my will, I am forced into slumber.
As the man that would seem to many a violent brute slips into his peaceful dreams, doctors watching over him sighing, a small girl stands on tip-toes, peering over the chequered window into the man that previously was deemed in helpable. She struggles to see in, but she must, she’s missed him so much. Her red coat hangs off her shoulders, looking much too small, as she mumbles to herself and the adult laying in the hospital bed.
“Papa, get better soon”
