Untitled/unfinished story by Shossana Dreyfus
I was only 24 when I died. The unexpected, shocking instances that would lead to such consequences would quite likely seem not even believable to most. Even after a vast variety of turmoil, pain and anguish, nothing would have yet prepared me for the events that would take place.
I was murdered on a Tuesday. It would have seemed sensible to me that of all days of the week, a murder would take place on a Tuesday. When the MPs sealed the area, at least by then “they” had figured out that maybe I was really missing and not just “U. A.”, which, sadly, took two days, although every single item I might have needed was still in the squad-bay. But at some point, at least, they considered to begin a formal search. Finally they got around to looking for something other than a live person, possibly.
So after some unsuccessful inquiries, they progressed to opening the “quad-cons”, hosed down and superficially cleaned to hide the damages, all stacked neatly upon returning on embark from the desert, much like us. For this of course, they needed Maj Baker and his supervision. SSgt O’Connor and Sgt Jayne were there as well. But they surely couldn’t have possibly been prepared for what the MPs found in their presence: as they pulled out this figure wrapped in plastic, bubble-wrap sheets, what looked like legs came exposed through the plastic, then there was an arm… they all knew already, but deep down they desperately hoped to be wrong. They set the body down by the legs and shoulders, in silence, in horror, to pull open the sheets covering the head, wishing for time to stop right there, but instead …instead, they were looking at my face.
One of the MPs vomited, Sgt Jayne and SSgt O’Connor were paralyzed with shock and panic. Maj Baker simply cried. Not just out of duty, to the reality of answering the haunting questions - What would he say to my parents? He’d never had to do this before. His overwhelming disconcert to think that he got through a war without having to go through this, and just a few short weeks later, at home, he’d have to report about this dead troop. It just didn’t make any sense. But it wasn’t that so much. It appears that, for some reason unbeknownst to me, he cried for his heart was badly hurting. He cried for the girl he couldn’t save. He cried for his Marine whose soul was hurt, before this tragedy became such brutal reality.
Still, he didn’t pay enough attention to the irony, the tragic yet poetic fate of mine, that my soul would be executed by my pears and not the enemy – and then so was my physical life.
And none of them had any idea ... that I finally had peace.
When the others found out, there was chaos. Rivers of hidden tears from the boys who thought they loved me and the stupid people who simply felt that it was the thing to do – to cry. Stupid boys with stupid crushes who never made the minimum effort to help, to defend, to stand up for injustice with very little risk ... they mostly cried out of secret guilt; and I was glad to provide them with demons to face, for as long as possible, even if it was only through the outcome of my fate. Of course, even the shocking news didn’t quiet down all the ill deserved rumors. Some wondered what I might have done to put myself in a variety of speculated situations ...
I never did care much for the human kind.
Nor did I mind, at all, that everyone on deck would suddenly become on “lock down” with the pending investigation. As far as I was concern, every person there had their part in this dark affair, whether it be directly or indirectly. I didn’t care. I wasn’t coming home anymore, so it only seemed fitting that they have a taste of the agony in finding themselves in such trap, not knowing when it would end, so desperate to be released ... at least for a time.
If I’d known how, I would’ve haunted their dreams forever. All of them.
It’s very peculiar how different the perspective of things look after one’s dead.
Now, the point where I should start this story also blurs slightly. There would be an angry account of war and betrayal to precede the dark turn of events ... but the murder ... the things that took place that night would be so sinister and unexpected, that it would shock a world into awaking itself to its blinded nature.
09/21/2003 Posted on 02/09/2010 Copyright © 2025 Shossana Dreyfus
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