Depressed Soldier Mga Nobela at Kwento

It's fucking sinister that freaked me out! Later on, I found myself inside a military vehicle. The current situation made my eyes lose their color. It turned into a void as my beats ironically became a dead beat. Lifeless, even. I stared at these soldiers blankly. I am not dumb not to condemn those people they're shooting. But unfortunately, the qualm inside my head will remain hanging. What makes those people became...undead?

I ask sarcastically. “Yeah,” he answers quietly, taking a huge breath. “My family. My wife was six months pregnant. My little girl was still two and a half years at that time when I was deployed. We were ambushed by the bandits. Half of my brothers were dead on the spot. I was wounded too. Do you know how I felt at that time? I wanted to fucking help, but I, myself, couldn’t do anything because I was wounded too, and I couldn’t even help myself. That’s the reason why I always listen to music. Because that horrific day is still haunting me. Music makes me calm a little bit.” I feel guilty so fucking much. I swallow hard the bitter taste that rises in my throat. “I’m sorry, Edmund. I never tho

A man who had once been great was now similar to a psycho living under the bridge. I followed immediately trying to breach the distance. Papa was looking scraggy, his beards overgrown, his hairs tattered, his eyes diluted, he was bleeding, probably over beaten and tortured by the soldiers. His face was no more the smile I had been familiar with, his eyes were red, he had grown very lean – the part which seemed to change the most was the despair written all over his spirits. He was a broken man, one who had lost everything, a role model who could not even inspire himself to heights he had projected. He turned to me, gave me a faint smile, nodded his head and went on.

The words barely escaped his lips. Another soldier tried grabbing him. He shoved the man away. Still staring. Still walking. Toward nothing. Toward empty darkness. Then he smiled. The same smile. My stomach dropped. "No!" I lunged forward. But it happened too fast. The soldier's body jerked violently. Like invisible hooks had pierced his flesh. Then he collapsed. Dead. Instantly dead. The smile remained frozen on his face. Silence filled the plaza. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The remaining soldiers stared in horror.

Jay Willz’s POV Breakup music. That’s what this was. Dax’s “Depression” thrummed through my headphones, but the lyrics just blurred into a sad, angry smear. I was too bored, too tired, too everything to really listen. I just sat on the front step, letting the world pass by, feeling like a ghost in my own life. I didn’t even notice the two men approaching until their shadows fell over me. I looked up, pulling a headphone off. “Yeah?”

I saw Corporal Kanes. I didn't see Ashren. "Where is he?" I asked. My voice was small. A child’s question. Kanes looked up. He stopped halfway down the ramp. He saw me standing there, barefoot and desperate, and he crumbled. The tough, veteran soldier dropped to his knees on the metal grating. He put his face in his hands and began to sob. It was a raw, ugly sound that echoed in the cavernous bay. "No," I said again. I took a step back. "Don't you dare."

Colin chuckled softly, but it was a sarcastic smile. "Hansel Saddler, aren't you the one who's faking your symptoms? Since you can't make sense of Melissa's patient records, let me walk you through it. "She suffered from severe depression after her miscarriage five years ago. Have you noticed the scars on her wrist and her neck? Do you have any idea how much suffering she's been through? "However, she refused to be warded because she needed to look after you. Every smile she put on for you hurt her more.

"We knew there was the possibility he might not come home, but I never let it gel in my mind. It hit me hard when the soldiers showed up at our door to deliver the news. I kept thinking it was a mistake. Misguided delusion, I suppose." "A coping mechanism." He rubbed his chest as if it hurt. "I did the same thing every day recovering in the hospital." With a sharp inhale, he slammed his eyes shut and shook his head. Once he opened them, some of the distress was gone. Not all, though. "You want me to put that away?"

Only six out of hundreds of people, including the captain and crew, were saved during the search and rescue. On the last day of the rescue, the soldiers silently mourned the dead for three minutes before returning to the army. Even though the rescue work was over, they seemed shrouded in gloom... The group that used to be full of laughter became silent. When they met, everyone's eyes were red with distress. The higher-ups had psychologists provide them with support and guidance, but the therapy results did not look great. Whenever some of the soldiers closed their eyes, they would see the bodies in front of them again.

Anyone who sees it can't help but feel sad. I brought antiseptics and bandages to bandage the injured soldiers. I couldn't help but feel bitter as I looked at a warrior who was unconscious but still called out his wife's name. "Rosa, Rosa…" I exclaimed. 'War is truly the cruelest thing in the world.' "Come on! Your wife is waiting for you to return." I don't know how to comfort him; I just try to soothe him somewhat. "Don't worry, the doctor is here, and you will be saved."