Bridges make awful homes part 2

Part 2

I headed south with no real goal in mind, but daydreams of living on the Mexican coast for the rest of my days in peace.

Peace, that is what I wanted. Real or not, I needed it.

I found the nearest transit station, I had to keep moving south. Maybe there, I would find my sanity once again. I had 300$ in my account, my VA payment would keep me from starving but I needed peace. Can you buy peace for 300$, of course not there's transaction fees.

I hopped on a trolley headed south and hid in the back. Trolley cops are still cops, and they write tickets. If I got a ticket I'd show up on some grid somewhere and they'd know where I was. I couldn't be found, if I was found I'd be dragged back to the Army. Or worse, I'd have to sleep with the rats again. Every time I saw the Trolley cops I got off and waited for the next trolley, I avoided the shops and outlets. They had cameras and they were watching. Always watching.

I went as far east as the trollies went and pulled cash out. From there I continued south, I had to get to peace. But could I find peace? How would I know it when I found it? Could I even trust it if I found it?

The trolley stopped in a town called San Ysidro, it's a town that is on the border of Mexico and the U.S. I stared at the border. My palms itched, my skin burnt, I knew I could walk across and disappear forever. But I would need supplies first, I needed water, and boots, at this thought I realize I had been walking shoeless all day. And once again I was running, which frightened me more, I was a shoeless man traveling across southern California. I knew someone had to be calling the cops.

I found a place that sold a little bit of everything and geared up. I had a ruck, a sleeping bag, food, water, shoes, a coat, a skull cap, and a bed roll. I had everything I needed to survive, I just needed a place to prepare. I got a cheap room, in a cheap hotel.

The room smelt of ammonia, and bleach, a smell from my childhood I will never forget. It burnt my eyes, and my nose and my throat. I dropped my gear, opened a window and left, I couldn't remember where I was. Was I home? Was I in Iraq? Or was I still trapped in that shit hole of a base in Mississippi? I walked to the nearest liquor store and got a bottle of jack, two packs of smokes, some pizza and went back to my room. The room still burnt me, my very presence was an affront to this place. I was not wanted, even here where no one knew me. I locked the door, slide the mattress off the bed and threw it against the door. I pulled the one chair in the room in front of the window and drank. And drank, and smoked, and drank some more.

I watched the window, peering through the lace curtains, I watched as the city moved by. People laughed, and played, drank their worries away. I watched them, the pink neon sign of the hotel flashed on and off all night.

Flash.

I was there death everywhere.

Flash.

I was in an unknown city, drinking to forget.

Flash.

I was back, men were rowing a boat out to an island.

Flash.

The clubs were filling up, I heard screams of laughter.

Flash.

The rowing stopped, and the men unloaded the gear. My hand rested of the button.

Flash.

There was music coming from somewhere. the room next to mine had guttural primal moans escaping into mine.

Flash.

My hand trembled, this wouldn't be the first time this happened, but that doesn't make it easier.

Flash.

People were oblivious to the reality of life, I drank more. And more.

Flash.

I pressed the button, and there on that screen, the scene I had seen play out every night replayed itself again. There was a group of men setting up a mortar, then there was a small streak of light from the top left to the bottom right where the men were. Then the feed went white, and a slow cool set in returning the image back to what it had once been. Minus the men on the small island.

Flash.

The music grew louder and louder. The moaning was feverish now. I snapped, drank the rest of the Jack and threw the bottle. It shattered, pink stars rained down in my room. Throwing light everywhere, forcing me to see everything all at once.

I attacked the room, with all of my rage, fury, frustration, and shame. I fought everything and everyone with everything I had. I began to spin and drift from consciousness. The last thoughts I had that night were, "great, I forgot to lock the top lock. Now when they come for my body it'll be easier for them to get in."

I woke up covered in my own blood, and vomit. I had spent the night crawling around on broken glass and throwing up where I collapsed. Packed my ruck, and left the room, after I cleaned up. I let my mind drift, and I walked once more.