Rat Kiley Underneath a Lemon Tree

I have not had a solid sleep cycle in over 15 days, I am exhausted. Whenever I start dreaming I wake up almost instantaneously in a cold sweat and short of breath. Every time my dream starts out the same way. I am sitting underneath a lemon tree when it starts to bleed then I wake up.

It was 15 days ago when old Curt Lemon stepped on a booby trapped 105 round and became one with a nearby tree. Ever since that day I cannot get the image of him exploding out of my head, and I have a feeling I will not be able to for a long time. Before I witnessed the death of a friend first hand, war had not affected me in the least bit. For Lemon and I war was a game, it was a competition between us. Volunteering for a shit job like night patrol was all part of the rush. Even taking a step and not knowing whether or not our foot would still be attached the next second provided a thrill. The only problem was that neither of us expected to ever actually experience the horror of war, let alone find out that there is such a thing as horror in war.

Now Lemon is dead and I am trying to keep myself from dying in a Vietnamese rice paddy shit hole. Two things fill my mind these days, one dismembered limbs hanging from a lemon tree, two going up to some gook with a bayonet and showing him the true meaning of pain. As we set up camp for the evening I wonder to myself how much pain I will have to inflict on those gooks and their native animals before my pain goes away. Unfortunately there is no guide to these kind of things. I am just going to have to bottle up my emotions until I get the chance to release my anger on another living being.

I have heard that it is mentally unhealthy to bottle up emotions. The only problem with that is the last time I tried to tell someone my emotions the fucking cooze never wrote me back. I will not waste anymore time on words that will not be heard, instead I will do what comes naturally and bottle it until I can hold someone responsible and exact my revenge. I know now that I will never get my innocence back. I was a fool to think that even after war I would still be a playful Rat Kiley.

Being brought up in a conservative Christian home I was always told that when you start being sexually immoral is when you loose your innocence. I say that is a bunch of bullshit. Before being shipped out I did my fair share of horsing around with beautiful women. Whether we were fooling around in the back of a taxi cab or on my rickety old twin bed, I always came out of the encounter feeling rejuvenated and enlightened. Now watching a man explode, that will take away your innocence and deprive you of sleep for years.