Otherwise Unharmed

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It’s fucking bright.

Even though the lights had just been turned on, I was already sitting up in the rough, uncomfortable bed that was one of many in the Metropolitan Correctional Center of Chicago’s medical unit.  It had been quiet up until a moment ago when the daytime workers arrived and the day guard took the place of the one on the night shift.  I could hear words being spoken as shifts changed, but I didn’t pay attention to their meaning.  Everything happening outside of me was too much to take.  There was enough going on inside my head at that moment.

Shots, explosions, the recoil of my Barrett M82 sniper rifle against my shoulder, and blood.

I shifted my arm, and the chain to the handcuff around my wrist rattled against the railing on the side of the bed.  The feeling made me tense a little, like it did every time I moved, and I began to feel a little dizzy and lightheaded.  I hadn’t slept more than an hour or two since I’d been brought here.

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