May 6, 1700 hours
I've been thinking far too much lately. Maybe I forgot to take my pills.
Have stopped therapy. The doctor just disappeared. Still wondering whether I need it.
Smile. Wave.
I'm fine, sir. How are you?
The same old thing. The same old routine.
He doesn't know he died yesterday. Hung by his intestines. Icky way to go. Don't wanna think about it.
And yet here he is, smiling at me. Waving. Small talk. He's impressed by my politeness.
I've been thinking: Why is it that we die and come back the next day?
Death is a Scary Thing. I don't like it. It's not beautiful, either, despite all the movies and books about dying in your lover's arms or meeting the ghost of a loved one.
It's scary. I've seen it. I see it every day.
I've been thinking: why don't we remember any of it?
Sniffles never remembers being tortured by the ants. Cuddles doesn't remember that thing with the coffin. I think I might have died too but I can't be sure.
None of them remember me killing them. Not sure if that's a Good Thing or not.
Truth is, I'm a pacifist. I never wanted to be in the war.
I wasn't born in Treetown. Caveana's the next place over. I was born there.
Can't remember much of my cubhood. It was pretty happy, I guess. Until they took me away. Because of a little rumour that there was a war coming. I remember that.
They trained me up. I wasn't anything special but they needed all the soldiers they could get, even if they were still clueless cubs like I was.
Years passed. The rumours about the war were true. We trained harder. They threw us into the madness when I wasn't a cub anymore but a hardened, loyal dog.
Fetch, boy. Sic'em, boy. Down, boy.
Sir, yes, sir.
I'm starting to think I don't want to remember what happened next.
May 7, 1400 hours
Had an 'episode' today. Found out later the landmine going off was someone slamming the door too hard.
Breathe. Calm down.
I'm covered in blood again and I don't know what I did.
Terrified faces. Some are still screaming at me.
I look at them as if I've just woken up from a nap. I guess, in a way, I have.
There's no consequence. No one tries to arrest me.
I walk straight past Officer Lumpy and he just yells and shakes his fist at me. Maybe because he's managed to handcuff himself to the car door. Great law system we have here.
Giggles asks me why I did it. I want to tell her I don't know but I'm not sure if that's lying.
Lying's a Bad Thing.
I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. The war made me do it.
She looks at me and asks "What war?"
May 8, 0951 hours
Please, ma'am. You have to remember. I do.
The Great Acronian War?
Please, don't make me explain it. I don't want to. I'm sure there's a textbook in the Oak Library or something.
Ma'am, I assure you, I'm not delusional. Good day.
Wait watch out for the—!
Never mind.
I check the library. No books. No newspapers. No record of the war at all.
You know that thing? The crazy person who doesn't know he's lost his mind?
I'm starting to think that's me.
0050 hours
Oh, Nature why can I remember something that isn't real? I keep dreaming about it and the dreams are Bad Things they're Awful Things but I keep thinking that I'm there...
When you know for a fact that something happened— when you've witnessed it with every sense you have but no one knows what you're talking about— does that make you the crazy one?
I know it happened. I was there. I was scared out of my mind and yOu LeT mE iN.
I did. I wanted to.
BeCaUse i'M eVeRyThiNG yoU wAnt tO bE—
Wanted. Past tense. The war is over.
HoW dO yOu kNoW FoR SuRe?
How do I know it even existed in the first place?
0155 hours
I don't need my pills anymore. I'm not sick. He's not evil. He's just smarter than I am. He figured it out.
We're stuck in a time loop.
That's why everything stays the same. That's why no one knows about the war because we're stuck repeating the same thing over and over again and it started before the war. As soon as you set paw in Treetown you become a part of the loop. You keep your memories and your identity but no one will truly know you.
The War was real. It wasn't in my head.
The flashbacks…the flashbacks are a reminder of what lies in the Nothingland. We leave our safe little town and we'll die for real. Like in the War. That's why he takes over. I get confused sometimes and he reminds me.
He has to remind us that we are immortal and to be grateful for our gift.
The zombie thing—that wasn't real. He told me.
The fight I had with myself—that wasn't real. He told me.
But the War, the carnage and the blood and the scream scream screaming—that was real. And he reminds me that they never came back once I sLiT their tHroAts.
They nEveR cAmE BaCk—
We ArE tHe pERfeCt SoLdiErS DoN'T yOu eVeR fOrgeT tHat—
No no no no I want to forget I want to forget everything why won't you let me forget retreat retreat for the love of Nature retreat!
Blacked out. He had to remind Toothy and Lumpy that guns shouldn't be made into children's' toys. Petunia's still screaming. Don't worry, the blood will wash out of your fur and they'll both be back in one piece tomorrow.
That's the pattern, you see. The 'triggers' are there for a reason. Sometimes the toy gun isn't a toy. There could, in fact, be a live grenade in the pineapples, ketchup and blood look remarkably similar, and that movie…
They capitalise war here even though they don't know what really happened. They know what war is, but only because the silver screen told them.
So I have to remind them that war shouldn't be glorified. No one should make movies about it, those ones you go to see with the slow motion fight scenes and the vividly coloured protagonist who always always wins in the end without a strand of fur out of place.
'Heroes' they call them, and 'brave'. Kids worship useless superheroes, play fight in the playground. They want to grow up just like Splendid or Buddhist Monkey or me because I look like the bear from Saving Private Mongoose and we're all oh-so-brave.
Truth is, in war, everyone's a coward. And everything moves so fast that you can never really tell what's happening. It stinks. It's hot. Most of the time, you're lucky to leave with your pelt intact.
Those movies even glorify death. There's always some long, drawn out speech from a dying side character which gets the audience sobbing.
Truth is, the pain can get so bad you forget how to speak.
Truth is, death is always a Scary Thing. Even when you die on a daily basis and come back the next day and continue like nothing happened except the things you already know.
It's a Good Thing he's there to remind me.
it'S a VeRy GoOD ThInG.
—LeSt wE fOrGeT—
I don't know what brought this on. It's something I thought up ages ago, wrote and never had a chance to put up on the site due to lack of internet.
I think it may have been roughly inspired by Chuck Palahniuk's work. I'm not sure.
Reviews are most welcome.