Night of Reckoning

It’s late November and it’s only been a month. Samantha has only been gone a month but it has been an agonizing month. Sleepless nights and lonely days, life has just about come to a standstill for me. Here I am, again laying in bed looking at the ceiling; awake for the third time tonight.
I roll over and glance at the clock. 4:23. I was stunned, but not at the hour I was awake. An eerie feeling fell upon me; a sort of sixth sense. There is something horribly wrong. I pull my thick printed quilt off me and swing my feet off to the side of my bed. I reach under the bed with my right hand searching for my gun case. I find it, do the combination lock guarding my firearm and open the case. I grab the pistol out of it, put eight .45 caliber rounds into the magazine, push the mag into the gun and pull back the hammer. I had a feeling of intrusion in my home, and I was going to be prepared for anything that may arise from my investigation of the house.

Gun in my right hand, flashlight in my left with the gun being supported by it, I open the door to my bedroom; it moans as the darkness of the hallway becomes visible. My bare feet feel the coldness of the wood flooring. There is a noticeable chill in the air as I move into the hall and towards the bathroom. Flash the light into there; clear. I move back into the hall and open the guest bedroom; same, clear. Then I move into my office area; again clear. I’ve done sweeps like this during my Army years, but I’ve always had my comrades behind me. Tonight, I am completely alone and unprepared. Don’t psych yourself out Matt, you have done these hundreds of times.

I step back out into the hall. Bathroom cleared, guest room cleared, office clear. I move into the kitchen and look right; just the stove and sink. A quick glance out the window and only the moonlight is coming through, the world outside is as still as the house. I move the light left; I see a dark mass quickly dash into the living room. Jesus Christ what is that?

I dashed into the next room ready to exterminate the threat, but I discovered nothing. Heart beating incredibly fast, adrenaline pulsing through my icy skin, I stand there motionless. I’m completely still and the only thing I can hear is my quickening breath and the deathly silence of the house. My spine tingles aggressively. I know there is something here, but where the hell is it? I motion the flashlight around the room, scanning it very carefully. Then it dawns on me; it escaped into the basement. I turn left and point the light downstairs into the abyss. I can’t even see the bottom of the stairs, which terrifies me even more than I already am. My hands tremble, light shaking. Nevertheless I find the courage to go to the edge of those wretched stairs.

I had extreme fear and apprehension rush through my body. I involuntarily jerked as a result. A harsh cold wind blew by me, and I froze. This isn’t natural. The stillness of the house and the beat of my heart was all I heard. Whatever was down there was taunting me, it was somewhat calling me down there. I didn’t know what to do; confront this malice or stay up all night in fear wondering what in God’s name is haunting me. You don’t even KNOW if it is a ghost or whatever. I continued to contemplate this, I looked at the clock: 4:45. It has felt like this whole ordeal has been hours.

Against all my natural inhibitions, I start to descend the stairs. One foot in front of the other, I begin. Fifteen steps separate me from my relative safety of the upstairs, and the unknown hidden in the basement. My gun is fixated on the end of the stairs with the flashlight illuminating the landing. My eyes are also fixated on that landing, not blinking whatsoever. Breathing was starting to become difficult as complete terror was setting in as response to my situation. I felt a cold drop of sweat roll down my face, but I knew what I had to do, and that was go down these stairs. And then I was at the bottom.

I move my light right. Clear right, clear left. My training hasn’t left me yet. I move right, into my storage area of the basement. I open the door without a single creak, and move the light around the room. Boxes on boxes of miscellaneous items; Christmas lights, Halloween decorations, high school memorabilia. Nothing was out of place, and there was nowhere for anyone, or thing, to hide. I close the door and move onto the other rooms of the basement.

I was starting to grow more confident in myself. This pistol saw me through three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. We’ve been through worse situations. As long as I have Smith and Wesson, nothing will stop me. I clear the first room; completely empty of anything. Two more to go. I open the second storage area; this is more cluttered than the first so it requires a thorough search. God I should have cleaned this out long ago. My parents’ personal items are here; old pictures, clothing, and jewelry. Nothing was disturbed, I could tell by the layer of dust all the items have accumulated over the years. Front part of the room clear, I go towards the back wall. On the wall there is something; looked like a paper. I approach it and put my light on it. What the hell is this? The paper was actually a picture; a group of Afghan soldiers in the mountains outside Kabul. I was in there with a few of my friends and officers. This picture showed my squad and the Afghan trainees. The picture was taken a few hours before I was sent home for good. This is some sort of sick game, or a nightmare. This is NOT possible. I only took one picture in my seven months in Afghanistan, and that was with my unit commander. And he died four days after the pic. My heart sunk and again I felt the presence of someone. Jesus Christ, this is getting out of control. I spun around quickly, and it was there.

A solid dark human-like mass staring at me. Without hesitation I open fire and scream. I fire off all eight shots directly in where the head SHOULD have been. It was completely unaffected by my attack. I then knew what this was about. My past has come to haunt me. All those people I killed, they have come for me. Then it moved. And I yelled at it; “What ARE you?” It was approaching me ever-so slowly. The closer it got the more terrifying it was. My light didn’t even go through it, it made it’s own shadow on the wall behind it. It wore darkness, and it had no features. Instead of fear, I felt anger. I felt helpless, knowing nothing I could do would stop it.

I never did anything immoral in my lifetime. The only people I killed were confirmed insurgents who fired at us first. I committed no crimes. It slithered closer, and then stopped. It was roughly four feet in front of me. Then it leaned right, towards the wall, as if it was observing me. I could feel its icy, faceless glare. I could see its chest move as if it was a breathing, sentient being. We stared at each other, waiting for one of us to make a move, do something. The silence, the confrontation, it was unbearable. If this was a ghost, what did it come for?. Then a blinding light erupted out of it; enveloping me and my surroundings. I was temporarily blinded, and when I opened my eyes and I saw nothing but infinite whiteness that stretched into the horizon. There was only white. And my former commander.

“Sergeant Matthew, good to see you.”

“I’m dead…aren’t I?”

“No my boy, you are alive and well.”

“But…YOU are dead. Aren’t you?”

“That is true, but don’t focus on that, son.”
What is this? What’s happening to me right now?

“All will be answered shortly, just allow me to speak”

“Uh…yes sir, sorry sir.” He could read my mind, weird.

“Since you arrived home, I’ve been watching over you; your guardian angel. You have been bottling up all your feelings; your emotions and it has been hurting you. I’ve come here today, to explain to you, what you did during the war, will not affect your afterlife.

“I have spoken with...well my boss: God, and His message for you is to let go. Let go of all that hinders you. You have nothing to fear, nothing. You are morally safe, but please Matthew, take care of yourself. You are on a path to self-destruction if you don’t listen to my warning. Father’s warning.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Be happy, son. Now is the time for celebration of life. I want you to forget and forgive yourself and others.”

“Why did you choose me? Why am I…being saved? I don’t deserve this.”

“Stop it now! Matthew you were a damn good soldier and you DO deserve this intervention. Stop wallowing in self-pity and sorrow. You were trained better, and you can overcome this.”

“I’m sorry…but since my wife died I don’t know what my purpose is. I feel lost”

“I cannot give you direction, for you alone can choose your own destiny. Look deep down inside yourself, Matthew. What do you see?”

I sigh to myself: “Someone striving for greatness. I want to give back to my community, do some good with my life.”

“Good. Now go. Do what you have to do.”

“Is that an order, sir?” I said slyly.

“It very much is. Goodbye Matthew, we will see each other someday. When it is your time.” He was smiling when he said this, and then he turned and began to walk away. Suddenly I’m blinded again, and everything fades back to reality.


And with that, the vision was no more. When I awoke from it, I was sprawled out on the floor of the basement; sunlight shining in onto my face. I push myself up off the ground, grab my gun and the spent casings, look at the holes in the wall I made and laugh at myself for thinking I could kill a ghost. I went upstairs, and then sat down at the kitchen table to reflect on the night’s events. I was surprised to find myself actually happy. For the first time in a long time, I felt I can manage things. For the first time, I felt as if…I might be alright.

I knew what I had to do.