Prompts: Tears...Wounds
"They carried all they could bear, and then some, including a silent awe for the terrible power of the things they carried."
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried
My Da, he come home from the war, that's true. But, nights when I hear him yellin' and cryin', nights when Ma comes to our room white-faced with bruises on her wrists, those are nights I don't know the man who came home.
He was hurt, Da was. Lost an arm, cut clean off by an Orc, they said.
He lost more than that, but no one talks 'bout it. It's like some shameful secret that we pretend everyone doesn't know.
I know Da is brave. He was a strong man once, tall and broad across the shoulders. He could carry sacks of grain that other men could barely lift.
But strength of body doesn't mean strength of mind. I know that now. I sat with him in the healer wards, and listened to those men around him screamin'. Like they was bein' tortured, they screamed and I ... I well believe they were.
They lived. They came home.
But that war? It lives on in their minds. All the awful, terrible things they did and saw. They can't forget. Durin' the day, they can stuff it down, keep it in, but at night... Terrors walk the battlefields of their minds at night and ma and me, we cling to each other and cry.
I love my Da. I do. But when he starts staring at nothing and tremblin', I grab Ma and my brother and we leave.
It's better that way. He'd go mad if he hurt one of us. Da ain't a bad man. He just saw things he can't live with, and can't forget.
Was it worth it? I can't answer that. They say a great evil is gone from the world and I don't believe our King would lie. He seems a good, honest man. And he cares.
All the same, truth is also we sent a good man, a loving husband, a caring Da to fight.
And he didn't come home.
Not sweet, not happy, but it's the truth for a lot of men and women who serve. Please, show them respect and show support for their families. The things they come home with are hard.
