Hey there one and all,

Posted within the body of this message is the first section that I will be releasing (most likely after minor alterations and corrections) of "The Forgiven," a stream of consciousness styled work that I am currently working on. I would love to have anyone and everyone's opinions, comments, questions, and thoughts related to the work! Your input will help me greatly as this is the first stream of consciousness typed work I have attempted to create. Either way, whether you leave input or not, I do hope you enjoy it!

Take care and I hope to hear from you soon!

"Ming! Jesus Christ! Call the medic down here! We need to get him out of here! Ming... Ming, you have to get up! Fuck, his arm is torn apart. Looks like the bullet didn't leave a clean entry and exit wound. Medic! Get your ass down here!"
"I'm here. I'm here. I need you to lay him down behind that truck over there. Now!"
They ran and ran to get me out of the line of fire. And you. What did you do?!
"Okay, now that you have him laid down, I need you to hold his legs, and you, private, private! I'm speaking to you, boy! I need you to hold his head and his right arm in place. That will give me time and room to work on his left arm. Private, I need you to look the other way, as well. I can see you're about to lose it. I can't have you vomiting on the wound or anywhere near it. Do it to the side, alright? Are we all ready? This is going to be painful for him and he will fight back, whether he knows he's doing it or not. Here we go."
The medic... He dug the, the tweezers, or whatever they were into my arm and pulled every fragment of that bullet out. Then, he sutured my arm up as best he could given the fact that stray bullets were hurtling by us with mortar fire flying overhead. I mean... The bravery and courage he demonstrated in that moment... And apparently the two soldiers that helped him did an unbelievable job as well. From what I heard from the lieutenant that held my legs down, I fought like a man who had slipped into a drug induced madness. I thrashed worse than any animal in imminent danger of death. I even found a way to punch the private in the side of the head. Yet, I remember nothing of it.
"Good! Good! We've got his arm pretty well bandaged up. I've also injected him with a heavy dose of pain killer, so he should be a bit easier to deal with. Good job, my friends. Let's get him into the jeep and back to base as soon as possible."
"Sir, the jeep's gone. There're bullet holes all over it with several running straight into the gas tank. No more fuel! What do we do?"
"Lieutenant? What do you think? This man needs better medical care than he's received here as soon as possible. I've only stabilized him for now."
"Then, we carry him. C'mon men! He'd do the same for us. I guarantee it!"
He was right, too. I did do the same for him in the Battle of River West. We were slowly losing men to guerrilla type warfare tactics in a jungle that we didn't know the ins and outs of. Lieutenant Shill was hit pretty bad: three bullets had pierced his flesh, thankfully missing his vital organs. He was bleeding out and he wasn't going to make it. I ordered the men to give me as much covering fire as possible so I could reach the lieutenant, and then as soon as I passed by them, to retreat and defend us. I ran down the hill before me as our men launched a brutal attack on the trees and brush in front of us where the opposing force stood. I grabbed Lieutenant Shill by the shirt collar and upper arm to pull him out of the trench he was in. Then, after I brought him up to my level, I put his arm over my shoulders and dragged him as best I could behind the line of our men. Seeing this, our men took action and began to follow us while continuing to fire, as ordered. It is only due to their courage and efficiency as brothers in arms that we survived.
In any case, I digress. What I mean to say is that the medic, the lieutenant, the private - they all trusted me and they all gave me the absolute best medical care that they could. I have no reason to doubt the work that they put in to repairing me and keeping me alive. I then come back with an arm that is partially fixed already via the medic's suture job and...what happened? Don't you remember? I went straight to the infirmary, watched over by you at the time, Corporal Tracer, and was treated immediately for my injuries. During the treatments, I was administered a sedative and an anesthetic so as to knock me out and give cause for any and all pain to be null and void while your doctors and nurses initiated a surgical fine tuning if you will. Seemingly, all was well after that.
As the days passed by, I began to dream. The dreams... They were always the same. So simple in their premise and their delivery. And yet...
Insomnia was sure to find me as contemplation overtook me. Sleep was no longer stabilized with any kind of scheduled rhythm. Food became tasteless. Any chance of relaxation was cast as a grain of salt into a gale. Sanity was escaping me with each passing hour. When sleep did join me in my habitation of madness, in the micro-naps that occurred as my brain took over to preserve its well being, I saw... I saw... The man with the scarred forehead and neck.
The man's, or, well, the being's forehead bore the insignia of a sun. And it glowed. Glowed so beautifully, it did. His neck - the most fascinatingly enthralling crescent moon. It shone with a blue hue to it. The sun - a yellow hue with a tint of orange. So...strange.
Oh God, head is killing me. Blood coursing violently, searching for a means to break through my veins, my arteries, my flesh. Where am I? Sound of waves reverberating amongst the molecules of the air... Immediately indicative of the ocean? Or doth it suggest something else within tempered context? Cold... Biting... Snow? Jesus. Snow. Wind cooling the air beyond any possibility of lengthy stay within current condition. My fucking head! Standing upon obliterated minerals being constantly shifted by water wrought with salty infusion... Within earshot, some birds or animals in the distance. Must try to get up. Skin worn and torn... Blood seeping from lacerations. Quite slow, yet enough to notice. Where am I? Our humble providers of oxygen scattered everywhere. Brush, foliage - all coated in snow. Rain falling to give all matters another defining layer of complexity. God damn it. Imperative to find somewhere to bear some semblance of safety, protection, while I figure this out. Come on lazy ass. Get up. So sore. Muscles moving as though dust oppresses any possibility within the notion of mobility. Thankfully, though, finally up. Must make haste now. Left foot. Right foot. Moving slowly, but moving nonetheless. Casting my gaze across the horizon and nothing within view. Doth I currently inhabit some island? Or is it, rather, a peninsula? Hopefully peninsula! Some sort of civilization may bear existence - somebody, anybody. Must keep moving. Rain, er, snow's really comin' down. Frozen rain... What do they call that? Sleet, is it? I know not. In any case, trees, foliage, overgrowth, and yet life defined by a heart beat does not seem to reside here - near me. Besides my own vestige, that is! Ah. A fallen tree with just enough room under it for me to fit for now! I'm goin' for it. Christ, recollection must yield unto me a memory, a ponderance, something detailing any kind of past encounters within which I may have partaken. But first, I must make residence under this fallen tree. Ah shit, it seems that several insects provided their own means of residence previous to my predicament. I'm sure they won't bite. One would hope. Probably nothing to worry about for now. Greater issues are brewing within the pot of plot. Ha!
Isolated on an island, or some kind of land mass, and it's fucking snowing! Or sleeting... Whatever... Robinson Crusoe might even have means to scoff, citing unfavorable circumstance. Ha ha. Either way... Where the hell am I? What do I recall last...? A boat, or, ship? Yes! That's it! I bore presence on a ship with a group of people giving chase upon.. Upon... Something. Now, what the hell were we doing? We were... Was there some sort of mission? Come on! Why hath my memory decided to evade me as of late?! There's has to be something that I can remember! I remember a ship. Fishing, too. Was it some type of fishing vessel? No. Surely not. Allowance was made, I might add, to at the very least bring a fishing pole to toss a line over the side. Why, though? Had to be that I was, or, we were, gonna be there for some time. Otherwise, never would have brought the pole, especially if there was a mission that I was being briefed on. Yeah! That's it. There was a mission of some kind. An objective to be executed and accomplished. What was it...?
Oh! The rain! It's slowing down for now. So damn cold. Not much insulation on me. Only a shirt and pants. Drenched. Absolutely soaked. No coat or nothing. Have got to find a better shelter than this tree. Must move for now. Alright, getting back up again. Oh so sore. I must have collided with the beach, or sand, or whatever, with a great deal of force. Did the ship, or vessel, wreck? Couldn't have! Otherwise, I would have seen some sort of annihilated debris along the shore line. I didn't see a damn thing. Oh God... Am I going to die? No! I can't and I won't! I have to think of my training, what little I was able to get. Okay. What's first on the list? Well, water. Most important. Seems to be no real shortage of that particular resource around here. And with the snow that's left hanging on the foliage, I can let a lot of it melt in my mouth and bingo - water. Shelter's next. Have to find something better than that tree. Way too wiped out for the time being to make a respectable barrier to the elements. Have to see if there's some kind of naturally formed shelter around here. Like the tree. But, better obviously.
Why are there no animals moving or bustling around? Concerns me that I'm hearing no movement besides my own... Maybe it's the rain and snow. Has to be! I'll go with that. I'll stay vigilant in listening for them, but, it kinda helps the psyche to not worry about, shall we say, natural predators, at the moment.
Has to be a cave or rocks or something. Maybe not, but definitely hoping for something like that. Night coming soon. Need shelter...and warmth - fast. Just have to keep moving through the brush and trees. Shit. Mud all around me. That's my deserved reward for deciding to take a tour of Nature's garden when the sky has opened up! Ha ha. Got to keep my spirits up, though. Have to keep the will to live alive. I remember my wilderness guide, er, teacher said that it was so easy to lose the will to live when actually put in a survival type situation. But, nonetheless, have to keep all hope and spirits alive. I will get out of this. Absolutely. I'm a survivor - body and soul.
What's that sound? Rumbling and vibration along the terrain. Waterfall?! No. River channel! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm going to follow that and hopefully come up with something of value. Water erodes away dirt, sand, stone, rocks, etc. Maybe it would have the potential to make something of a barrier, a habitation for me...? One would hope. Anyways, have to be careful as I traverse the rocky shoreline. Shoreline! Ha ha ha. Not really a shoreline, you idiot! It's a bank! Rivers have banks. Oceans have shore - well, beaches or islands have shorelines. Still have my humor. That's good! Couldn't lose that now could I?! Ha ha ha.
Don't tell me the rain's starting up again! Damn it, it is! Gotta find something. This river's got quite a bend coming up. And it's getting more clamorous with each step! Chance for rocks and heavily eroded debris. Must keep going. So cold. So damn cold. Night coming soon. Just enough light for now to find a place to rest my weary head. C'mon! Keep going. Keep going... Keep - wait! What is that?! Yes! No fucking way! An overhanging rock, or boulder, with just enough space for me.
How am I going to get up there, though? Bit of a muddy ascension to get there. Well, here's to tryin'! Will have to dig my heels in. There we go. Think I've got it - ah shit! Ow! Fucking rocks and gravel scraping away at my flesh! Great, now if the cold doesn't bestow hypothermia upon me and kill me, infection will surely have a shot at it. Since I'm back to square one, I might as well wash out the wound. Here we go, at the river bank once more and - wait! Hold on... Should I even do this? Many pathogens traveling down the river. Bacteria, mites, bugs, etc. What the hell do I do? Guess it's not standing water at least. Probably better chance washing it out with this water than letting the mud-filled standing water continue to bear residence on me. What the hell do I do?
Screw it! Gotta try to wash it. Ah! Damn it, that's cold. Actually, maybe that's a good thing. Might numb up my arm and, subsequently, the lacerations. Hope to God I'm doing the right thing here. Alright. All washed out. Now what? Have to give that slope another shot. Dusk is finishing up its performance for the evening. Need to be protected, especially in my weakened state. On three. I'll run up on three. One... Two... Three...! Yes! Yes! So close! And... Made it! Oh, thank God! I'm in. Cold as hell, but, body heat will help warm it up. What did my guide say about hypothermia...? Oh! Have to strip clothes off, now. If I leave them on, they will exist as more of a detriment than anything else. The body can then warm itself up much faster without the unfortunately heavy and damp clothing still equipped.
Okay, shirt off, now pants and undergarments. Just have to put them to the side for - what's that sound? Sounds like metal clinking on the ground... Oh my God! Look at that! What are they? The darkness has removed any possibility for sight recognition. Ah, there we go, I'll feel for them. Got 'em. Bullets?! Why do I have two bullets in my pocket? What does that mean? What kind of objective must I have been given to require me to have bullets pocketed? Why would I have just two bullets on me? No gun. No other ammunition clips. My mind reels... I guess I'll pocket them once more for now and try to sleep as much as I can.
God, this rock is hard as hell. But, as time has passed, I think I've given enough body heat off to make this hole a little bit more tolerable. If I can only sleep... C'mon... You can do this... You've slept before on concrete, gravel, all sorts of crap. Albeit you weren't sleeping in the nude. That's a little fucking weird. Plus, it's colder than a witch's tit. But, in any case, one has to get sleep. Come on! There's got to be something to help me relax. What was that song from a while back that I had heard through Youtube? There was that song... Oh God, so cold... Muscles, please cease your shivering! Have to think of the song. Must get my mind off of this. The guy. What was his name? Brilliant songwriter and brilliant song. What was it?! Ah! 'Ordinary Life'. That was it! Now, just to think of the lyrics... I remember. Who am I? What have I done? And I forget. Damn it. Have to remember... Oh! That's part of it. Who am I? What have I done? You think by now the... The what? You think by now... Oh yes. You think by now the battle should have been won. No, but instead I've painted myself into a corner... And something. Something... Ah. And I'm dying to get out. But I'm overcome with doubt... All I ever wanted was an ordinary life... Children and the wife... And... And... That's all I can remember for now. It'll work, though, for the night. Oh how I loved to listen to that song as I would attempt to gain some foothold on much needed rest while on duty. As I, along with my military brethren would try to find some semblance of rest within the tense nights in our barracks, I would listen to that song over and over again. Such an amazing song. Made me think about life. So introspective. Introspection limitless.
In respect to that... What am I doing? Where has my life gone? I'm now stuck on an island or, or peninsula, of which I know not, and it seems that Amnesia has me within its grasp. I know not how I can regain that which is lost to the Winds of the Past. I know not what to expect for the still coming Winds of the Future. My life has, quite obviously, taken a turn for the worse. Will I die tomorrow? I know not. If so, what may cause it? I know not. All I know is that I must make my means count. I must take each breath with the utmost courage and unbridled yearning to live. Each step may be my last. And yet, each step may also be my first unto the Bridge of Change. For, it may be this Bridge of Change that brings me back to a place of safety. A place of comfort. A place of happiness...
"Wake up!"
Warmth. Beyond the obvious sound of the vocal chords that have just been utilized to gain my attention, I may say that I feel warmth! Sunshine, it seems. Rain... Has it gone away? Either way, I must answer the call made after me.
"I am awake. Who are you?"
"I hold a gun directed at your head. Given you make a move that is not to my liking, I pull the trigger. Now... Give me a reason to not play to the devil inside and fire off a shot anyways..."
I spoke as I saw fit, for if it were my last words, at least I spoke with words of truth and reason.
"All I can ask is that you not fire for the only reason I may be able to mention now - I know your voice. I have reason to believe that I know you too. For, it is the only shred of familiarity that I have at the current time."

I hope you have enjoyed!

Take care!

- Jokermagician