Paranoia

The gale of the winds blowing by.
The noise of the chopper blades.
The thud of the skids while landing.

The quiet.

Then it starts.
Gunfire from all directions.
Blood rushes to your head
You see the only people you cared about dying,
and you were next.

The first bullet strikes your body
The second one strikes,
and the third,
and the fourth,
and the fifth.

You black out.


30 years later.
It's happening again.
Every slight sound in the dark is a bullet.
Every person roaming the streets is a soldier.
You pull the only thing remaining you have close to your heart.
Your gun.
The door to your bedroom creaks open.
A fully dressed Viet Cong walks in.
You fire.