A Whisper to the Living
“There were four of them in the room, if you could call it a room – one wall missing half the bloody day and most of the night too. It reminded him of the other place where he’d gone crazy the first time, only then he’d been too weak from lack of nourishment to shout about it. This time he was getting fed and he sometimes had the strength to scream if he had a mind to.
Nights were the worst, because then he would dream about that prison camp, could smell the stink of vomit and dysentery all arou...nd him. He would wake moaning and shouting and nurses would run to his bed, rub him down, change the sheets, trying all the while to comfort him with their stupid talk. What the hell did bloody nurses know anyway? They’d somewhere to go after the shift, this was just a job to them. What did they know about being a prisoner? Because that was what he was, oh aye, he was in prison alright – even if there was a wall missing. They might just as well take his photo and stamp a number over it for all the chance he had of getting out of here – and there’d be no time off for good behaviour.MoreLess
Nights were the worst, because then he would dream about that prison camp, could smell the stink of vomit and dysentery all arou...nd him. He would wake moaning and shouting and nurses would run to his bed, rub him down, change the sheets, trying all the while to comfort him with their stupid talk. What the hell did bloody nurses know anyway? They’d somewhere to go after the shift, this was just a job to them. What did they know about being a prisoner? Because that was what he was, oh aye, he was in prison alright – even if there was a wall missing. They might just as well take his photo and stamp a number over it for all the chance he had of getting out of here – and there’d be no time off for good behaviour.MoreLess
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