“Can I get you anything sweetheart?” I heard my mom’s voice call from the door. “No thank you.” I replied blankly as I laid it the dark cool room, watching the moon rise above the clouds. From my bed, I could hear the vague voices from the television. They were announcing the next rotation of troops who had arrived to take over peacekeeping operations. I stood up slowly and walked over to the door, placing my ear against the thin wood. “As part of the agreed upon ceasefire, offensive combat units have nearly completed their withdrawal from the region, to be replaced by United Nations peacekeeping forces until a peace treaty can be signed by all parties. A spokesperson from the Army’s Public Affairs team said in a statement earlier that the last major issue facing the withdrawal is identification and location of missing and deceased soldiers, as well as any prisoners of war captured during the conflict.” I laid back down and shut my eyes again, and tried to go through the breathing exercise my doctor had told me to practice. I felt ridiculous for these feelings. I was literally home. I should be able to finally rest. I had my own bed again, not a cot packed into a bunker. I was in shorts and a t-shirt, not a combat uniform. Outside I could hear crickets and the night breeze, not the sniper fire and mortar shells I had become accustomed to for months on end. Suddenly, a loud pop from outside my window snapped me back to reality. From the bed I darted to the window, knocking over my lamp beside my bed in the process. As I looked left to right frantically searching for the noise, my right hand clutched a black handgun. I saw nothing immediate, I double checked the shadows and all the dimly lit spots, then looked for muzzle flashes and the glints from rifle scopes. My heart was racing, knowing someone was out there watching, waiting for me to slip up. Nonetheless, I had survived so far and didn’t intend to be killed anytime soon. Quickly, the sweat from the hot adrenaline rush turned cool as I saw the cause of the pop: my idiot neighbor’s car. I shook my head and tossed the gun back on to the bed. I sat on the bed and dropped my head into my shaking hands. Something wasn’t right in my mind. Every shadow was an enraged enemy soldier, charging at me with his rifle aimed at my chest. Every gust of wind was an artillery shell flying through the air. In a dark room of near complete silence , all I could hear were the sound of war. Not just orders being shouted or rifles blazing or screams and shrieks, but hopes and dreams, wishes and plans made by friends who didn’t realize they’d never make it home. “I just want to fucking sleep. Just one night without all this.” I said shakily to myself as I rocked back and forth on the edge of the bed. As I got myself together, I heard my door open, and there stood my father with a concerned look on his face as his eyes met the gun on the bed. “I thought I heard someone...or something outside.” I explained, but he simply nodded and sat next to me. “You don’t have to explain it to me. How are you doing? Honestly?” He asked calmly. “I’m fine, just a little hot in here.” I lied quickly. He shook his head and put his arm around my shoulder. “You and I both know we have spent more than our fair share of time sleeping in the desert. This isn’t hot.” He laughed softly, and I smiled faintly. “When I got back, I can honestly tell you I thought I was fine too. Getting to see everyone again, being able to experience normal life for a little bit, living my best days of freedom. It was fine, until this time. The times you’re laying in the dark, and your mind is still stuck in the trenches. Even now, years and years later, I have nights like this where a shadow looks like the enemy or a noise in the night has me on edge. There are nights when I close my eyes, I see my friends that didn’t make it back. It’s something no one can really understand from the outside, not even your mom.” I stared forward and looked towards the pictures hanging up on my wall. Ones from high school with friends, and others from my platoon before we deployed. All their faces, many of them now memories. “How do you deal with this?” I asked quietly to him without looking at him. “It’s not the same for everyone. What I can say, is that you need to remind yourself that you aren’t there anymore. You’re home and safe. You need to remember that you did what you had to do over there, and you did what you could given the circumstances. Also, you must never forget the good times with everyone, especially the ones we lost. We owe it to them to move forward and progress and live a peaceful and happy life.” He told me calmly. I nodded and he leaned over to kiss my forehead, which he did regardless of how old I’d gotten. He stood up and walked towards the door. I laid down, and looked to him once more. “Can you do something for me Dad?” I asked calmly. I could feel the night begin to wash over me as I watched the moon again. My father, who had set himself a place on the floor next to the bed, watched it also while reminding me of how I used to believe it was made of cheese. Before either of us knew it, we had drifted off into a deep peaceful sleep. No gunfire, no explosions, no voices. Simply peace.