Star Rider

Alcon's Journal #5 -- PTSD

DSF@9e40885ac0f4184de64230e11a75d890

That night, Mr.Bryan and I sat in the living room. Mrs. Bryan embraced my mother, who had a blank expression on her face and was covered in dried blood on both her face and clothes. No one said a word. Outside in the yard, a police car with flashing lights was parked, and a few soldiers I had seen before were standing in the yard, holding guns and looking coldly at the outside. They were father's former comrades or subordinates who had rushed to protect us upon hearing the news of father's death.

That long night was cold. When the sky began to turn white, I was standing in front of the window and saw the hot water spa pool that my father and I were making for my mother before he died, which was still half-finished. I, who had not shed a tear until then, suddenly broke down. I leaned on the windowsill with my hands and tears poured down, but I couldn't make a sound. Mr.Bryan walked over and put his hand on my shoulder: "Alcon, it's okay to cry..."

It was a difficult period. My mother and I lived numbly every day. Sometimes we would break down when we saw my father's belongings. Mr. and Mrs. Bryan came to accompany us every day. The soldiers in the yard kept rotating, holding guns and either strolling or standing still. Their cold eyes scanned every person passing by, and there were no more demonstrators or banners.

Shortly afterwards, under Mr.Bryan's arrangement, my mother and I moved to another city where I spent my 18th birthday, the first birthday without my father. My mother developed post-traumatic stress disorder and depression, while I was diagnosed with anxiety and mild depression. Following the doctor's instructions, my mother needed to start taking antidepressants. Her condition was unstable, and I often heard things falling and breaking or rolling on the floor at home. I would follow the sound and always find her sitting in a corner, sometimes with a vacant look, sometimes in tears, and there was always an object nearby that could evoke memories of my father.

It was a gloomy period. My mother and I lived a reclusive life in the small town. Except for buying medicines and daily necessities, we basically didn't go out. As graduation approached, all my studies were done through virtual reality remote learning. Mr.Bryan attended my graduation ceremony as my representative, while Mrs.Bryan stayed at my house to take care of my mother. After graduation, I expressed that I didn't want to send my mother to a sanatorium, so Mr.Bryan found me a job analyzing data for the military, which could be done remotely. However, the pay was low, and only enough for living in this remote town with a low cost of living. My mother's condition gradually improved, but her smile was still rare. I was lost and didn't know what the future would be like or whether this simple life could last forever...