Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Black Combat and the Voice of Life (Written to Inspire)

My name is Bryan McKinney, I'm writing you, to tell you about the things in life that you don't see. In this story, the most amazing thing to remember, is how some people never get dealt a good hand, but they keep getting up.
It was twelve o'clock in the morning and the day of my graduation from high school was over. I was unsure what I wanted to do with my life so I went around asking questions and found myself in an awkward place. I was over my girlfriend's house when a premonition crept in that something was about to happen. After the feeling, my girlfriend's father ended up throwing her mother down the stairs because she wouldn't listen to him. My girlfriend would not stop crying in my arms at the time and I didn't know what to do. I left her with the promise that I would not leave her side, but I soon broke that promise. We lost touch after she slept with another guy so I never spoke to her again. My major problems began at the kitchen table when a huge debate between my mom and dad broke out. He told her that I needed to get out of his house and she told him not to talk about her son that way. The next morning I found myself on the phone trying to convince my uncle to let me move in with him. It was clear that he didn't want me around him or his family. In all of the madness, I decided to join the military. I had to come to grips with reality that it was either stay at home and commit suicide or die for the country. I was not very smart so I ended up with a terrible job when I joined. I had to work the front lines of every major combat role. I came up with a term for the feeling I would feel every time I knew something was going to go wrong. I called the feeling: "black combat." Even though I was not highly educated, I still had common sense, or street smarts, as some would call it. There was something about combat that was different though. It was like a force that could only be explained by those in the middle. No mercy, is the best way to put it. One night in the middle of an explosion, I got word that three soldiers decided to kill themselves. It turns out that one of the soldiers had marriage problems and he really couldn't handle the madness. I don't want to depress you so I'm going to get to the point. In black combat, you get hit with an unusual form of punishment, with a high probability of not making it out alive. Even if you do make it out, the pain is still there. You will often see people living normal lives and you have to except the fact that you're scarred for life. The feeling of being alone is often felt and you often lose people that you need the most. In the middle of the night you may even get strangled and live to tell about it. You may even find yourself in a prison cell, with a voice that comes from somewhere, the voice may give you the feeling of justice. Your cry for mercy may never be heard in the real world, but there is something supernatural in the midst of the madness.
I'm now seventy-five years old and I still consider myself to not be very smart, but what I did to make it to seventy-five, is simple, I listened to the voice. My story may not be filled with glitter and sunshine, but I can tell when some people would stop listening to the voice. They would either die or give-in, losing out, on the real inspiration of what life is really about. I may not know what's in store for tomorrow and I may consider myself lucky for living a long life, but something guides people in this life. It's a voice and a feeling of certainty from somewhere in the universe.
This message is for those who are going through "black combat" and are left in the shadows. Listen to the voice that's leading you into the light. Good luck, and I hope you make it through when it hits. The inspiration of telling your story in the end will help you live a full and fulfilling life.

No comments:

Post a Comment