I grip my beer and let the cool glass calm my nerves. My PTSD was a pain in the ass, I could still see my fingers shaking around the bottle.
Being a soldier to protect MY country from any danger? It brought me a sense of pride that nothing else could ever replicate. I cherished my time in the war, but I also hated my time. The bodies left implants in my head.
Friends that didn't make it back, the ones who did, and me, the only one in my group that doesn't have that beautiful, loving 'other.' Well, I guess that's not saying much. After all, I am also the only girl in the group. 'The Rat,' they call me. 'Best to sneak in and sneak out. And most of all to hide some important shit from us!' I laughed along at the time but really, it made me nervous. Did they no long want to be my friend? I was wrong to worry, life went on as normal, as normal as it can be for a soldier, with the additional teasing now and then.
I watch the rim of my bottle shine. It was soon going to be a close companion to my lips. Nursing my shivers to steady and drunk movements, numbing my mind from reality. At least for a little.