Found Rage

Life moves on. Time, inexorable, implacable, marches forward. Always.

I watched the blood drip from my fingers while my mind wandered. I waited for it to pull itself back together. I just shattered it like glass, might as well let it pick up its own pieces while it came to grips with the carnage around me.

Always. Strange word. So small for such a big meaning. Feels like it should be bigger. More letters. It feels like it should just keep going on forever, mimicking its own definition.

My "always" ended. Just like that short little word.

But before that, before it ended, it began.

I had just come home from hell. Funny thing, only between 9 and 30% of soldiers throughout modern history encounter the enemy. It isn't all it's cracked up to be. It takes a toll on your soul. I got back. I was broken, and I needed to be put back together. I did the classes, got help, even pills. A year. Two. They told me I was better. I wasn't. Twitchy. Jumpy. Always ready to fight the next fight. But I had a lid on it. Way down, in the bottom of my soul, I had a well of darkness, and I put a lid on it and chained it shut. Had to move on; move forward. Drink water, drive on, hooah!

She came into my life. She was light. And soft. And warm. She was what I wasn't. Relaxed. Comfortable. She drew me out, into her light. And I loved her for it. She loved me, too. Told me so.

See? That's true love, said so right on the label.

Autumn and I moved on, built a life. Things were good. She had kids, past relationship. I loved them too. They loved me. Said so, all the time. I got to be called Daddy during the day, and take my beloved to bed at night.

Things were good. I forgot about the well, and the chains holding it shut.

One day, I came home early.

Shouldn'a dunnit.

I saw the narrow, pale ass of some guy that wasn't me fucking my Autumn into the mattress.

I froze. Stared. Didn't move. Couldn't.

She noticed me mid-orgasm, and in any other context the look on her face would have been hilarious. Orgasmic waves meeting abject horror is a funny sort of expression. Indescribable.

He noticed me, finally. He rolled off her and across the floor, grabbed his pants and jumped into them like a cross between Jackie Chan and a Looney Tunes character. It really was impressive. His cock wasn't. My size, really. On the high side of average, I guess.

I guess I didn't look all that friendly. He stepped into some modicum of a fighting stance, and that was the worst thing that could have happened, for all of us.

Who is that mumbling? Oh, that's me. What am I saying? I should probably pay attention to that. Seems like a man should know what is coming out of his own mouth.

"Where is it?... Where...Where is it?"

Ok, that's my voice, making my words, but... what does that mean? Where is what? What was I looking for? I looked inside myself, my id trying to figure out what my ego was up to. Oh. Oh shit. No no no no- not that!! Don't op--! With a grimace, my id watched as my ego reached the well, out of reach to stop it from ripping loose the chains holding that darkness back. It tore loose, and my id shattered from the force.

It all went black. Flashes of red. Pain and hate rolled through me like a tide.

Later, there was blue mixed with red. On... white? Things started to come into focus. A white wall. My living room wall, with police lights flashing on it. I turned my head, and every muscle in my neck screamed in pain. I saw my front door in pieces and scattered across the floor.

My id shuffled around in my braincase, picking up its pieces and putting them back together. Didn't look right. All jagged and angry, like a broken knife.

Words. Not mine this time.

"He'll live-"

"Might wish he didn't"

"Made the rookie puke and he wasn't even dead"

"bare handed? You sure?"

"Think she swallowed her front teeth"

"He go after her too?"

"No, don't think so"

"Jumped on his back, tried to pull him-"

"Dumb broad-"

"Hey, be professional-"

"Anyway, he jerked his head back, head-butted her front teeth, apparently right down her throat"

"Probably not the only thing that went down her-"

"One more word, one more, and you'll swallow your teeth, get me?"

"Yes, sir"

"Get out. I'm going to try to talk to him, looks like he's coming out of whatever that was."

A big man came towards me. No. Not big. Kinda short really. Clean cut. Tattoo. Forearm. Marine. Shit. One of those crayon eaters.

"Are you back?"

"Mostly" my voice was raspy and cracked.

"These guys... they've never seen what we've seen. They've never seen what a motivated man can do when...well, they've just never seen it. They told me you shrugged off two tasers without even noticing them. One guy got a little panicked, did a maneuver called a 'drive-stun' on your right shoulder, but you moved and he caught your neck instead. Sorry about that, but it was probably what stopped you."

"Hmm" I was, mostly, back together. The rage was back, and the well was more of a crater now. No locking it back up now. "You're sounding like the 'good cop'. When's the 'bad cop' coming?"

The sonofabitch grinned. I liked him. "No no, I'm the bad cop," he sighed ", but I know where you are, and bad ain't what you need right now. 'there, but for the Grace of God go I.' I've been there, and but for an accident, I'd have been in your shoes. My partner noticed I left my jacket in the car, and when he brought it in he saw me drawing my pistol. Saved their lives, and mine. They never even slowed down until they heard the scuffle of him trying to hold me back. Didn't know that I had almost killed them, so they couldn't press charges."

I smiled, grimly, and met his eyes. "Lucky you, but where's that leave me?"

"That's a question for the lawyers, I'm just here to do my part."

The lawyers did their part. 4 years. Mick, the detective that talked to me, spoke up for me at the trial. He tried. Maybe succeeded. I dunno. Autumn, the cheating whore, took her dentures out in the stand. I was sunk right then. Skinny Ass, he testified. Looked the part of a homicide victim. One arm and leg in a cast, face bandages and jaw wired shut to heal. He cried. Nobody cared. Even the judge had a disdainful tone when she told the guy to step down. That judge, man, she was fire and brimstone from on high. I had the thought that she shoulda been a preacher. She wasn't, but she made a run at being a hangman. Told me the only reason I was only getting 4 years was that it was an assault charge. Said the DA should have made it an attempted murder.

I did all four years. Apparently I never really lost that scary look on my face. Made the parole board nervous. Mick picked me up the day of my release. Good guy, for a Marine. We weren't friends. Couldn't be, cop and con, you know. But he kept an eye out for me. Helped me find work. The kind I'm good at.

The blood dried on my hands as I picked up my rifle. I found my rage, right where I left it, and I wouldn't let it go again.