See All Evil

Chapter Two : 22nd. April, 2011

CHAPTER TWO :22nd. APRIL, 2011

When Helen, Alex’s fiancé, visited him just three days after his return to the U.K., he felt apprehensive about her possible reaction. There was a slight hesitation when she entered the ward and then, without saying a word, she walked up to his bed and planted a tender kiss on Alex’s lips. It had been five long months since they had last kissed, but the taste of her lipstick and the smell of her perfume reminded him of much happier times. Also, on that day, five months ago shortly before he went out to Afghanistan, they had done much more than just kiss, but, how long would it be before he could make love, again? How long before he could be a real man?

She gripped his hand tightly. Although Helen considered herself lucky that Alex had survived the conflict, it was heart-breaking to see him in his present condition. “How are you feeling, darling?”

“Better now that you’re here, sweetheart.” It seems like ages since we were together.” He relaxed a little, yet, within a few seconds, a virtual black cloud appeared at the back of his mind and, somehow, something seemed different and troubling.

All his life, Alex had been self-confident and assured, but now, nothing seemed certain any more. Did he have anything to look forward to? Would Helen still want to marry him, now that he was blind? He wished he could see into the future, if only to know what to expect.

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

“The medication helps. The pain-killers make me feel so drowsy that I do sleep quite a lot. Then, there are the head-aches, far worse than I’ve ever experienced. At least I’m alive, unlike poor Jack.”

Helen knew of Alex’s long friendship with Jack and would have liked to give him a big hug, but she dare not, in case it caused him even more pain. “Oh, Darling, I’m so sorry.”

Helen sat on the chair at the side of the bed and, tenderly, held his hand. It was as if it was made of delicate china and may break if she held it any tighter. “When are the bandages going to come off?”

“I don’t know. The staff change the bandages regularly to clean and check how the flesh wounds are healing, but I really don’t know how long it will take.”

Helen sympathised. “Oh, it must be awful. I suppose it will take a while for your eyes to heal before you can see again?”

Alex was stunned by this question. “Did my parents not tell you about my eyes?”

Her blushes went unseen. “Well, yes. They said both your eyes were damaged, but I thought that surgery would be possible to recover some sight.” She was already regretting the fact that she had asked what now seemed like a really stupid question.

The hopelessness in Alex’s voice was evident as he replied, “You have no idea how much I wish that was true, but the ophthalmic surgeon told me that there was too much damage to both eyes to ever have the possibility of seeing again.”

An awkward silence fell on the young couple, broken only by Alex’s parents and younger sisters, Lucy and Amelia, entering the single ward. His mother sensed the tension between her son and potential daughter-in-law, but knew better than to make the situation worse by enquiring about the noticeable chilly atmosphere.

Messages from relatives and friends, some quite humourous, were passed on to Alex by his parents and the conversation soon took on a lighter tone.

Lucy found the sight of her brother in such a bad way, deeply upsetting and shed many tears while squeezing his hand tightly. Thirteen-year old Amelia was equally upset, but, somehow, was managing to stem the flow of tears, having shed so many when she first heard the news about her big brother’s suffering extensive injuries.

Later, when all visitors had left, Alex thought again about Helen’s question. He had a sickening feeling that everything that had happened over the past three years between him and Helen was soon to fall apart. She had not said anything more about his lack of sight, but the disappointment in her voice said it all. Why should anything spoil his chances of a happy marriage? His depression deepened, noticed by the vigilant medical staff.

Alex realised that, over the next few weeks, Helen’s visits became less frequent. He had feared that this may happen, but hoped that her feelings were too strong to be affected by his hopeless medical condition.

On top of this, he suffered from many chilling nightmares, where he re-lived the experience which had so effectively changed his entire life. Re-living the agonizing death of his friends and comrades terrified him beyond belief, each nightmare scribing deeper and deeper into his already tormented soul.

On several occasions, the nursing staff had to waken him as he screamed and threshed around in his bed, with the potential to damage his slowly-healing wounds.

When Helen did visit, he could sense an emotional barrier between them. She did try to say all the right things to lift his spirits, but there was now an emotional chasm where once their hearts had been deeply entwined. It now, almost, seemed a relief when visiting time came to an end, as he found it difficult to hide the hurt he was feeling inside.

He surprised himself when he admitted his concern about Helen to Jane, the psychiatric counsellor, a middle-aged woman with a soft, caring voice, who listened attentively to the young man’s worries.

“It’s not uncommon for relationships to suffer after such a trauma. You may find that she resumes the relationship when you are more mobile. Would you want that?”

Alex had to think about his own feelings for Helen. “I think so, but I do feel that I am now a huge disappointment to her.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Alex. Many blind people can still lead a full, active life.”

Even the word “BLIND” made Alex aware of a deep-rooted fear. Why was this five-letter word so short yet so powerful with his emotions? Why should it happen to him?

“I know, but I never wanted to depend on somebody else. I’m the one who should be looking after my partner.”

Jane could understand his feelings of inadequacy. In her job, she had come across similar situations many times and saying the right words to injured servicemen was never easy. “Give yourself time and I feel certain that your situation will improve.”

He knew she was probably right and tried, with great difficulty, not to worry about his own situation and difficulties.

To Add to Alex’s anxiety, the painful headaches persisted. For this reason, the specialists responsible for his care decided to carry out a brain scan.

The anticipation of this worried the young soldier even more, as the thought of having not only lost his sight, but also having impaired mental abilities would be just too much for him to accept.

Peter Jacques, the Neuro-surgeon who analysed Alex’s brain scan, tried to be re-assuring. “In most respects, your brain scan appears to be absolutely normal, Captain McCloud.”

The “in most respects” part of the surgeon’s statement caused immediate concern to Alex. “Just what does that mean?”

“Let me explain. As far as we can establish, there are no adverse reactions. This means that there is no impairment to your mental abilities.”

“Good.” Alex felt a little easier, but still knew that there must be something more to explain. “So how is my brain different?”

The surgeon sounded reassuring. “There are signs of increased activity in the right hemisphere, which usually means a heightened cognitive reasoning. This could have been caused by the impact on your skull when you were injured in Afghanistan.”

Still puzzled, Alex asked, “Is that a good thing?”

“Oh, yes. Individuals with higher activity than normal in this area tend to be more aware, more perceptive and, in some cases, have an unusual gift or talent, such as increased memory retention or the ability to mentally calculate complex mathematical calculations.”

This took the young man by surprise. “You mean that I may now be a genius?”

The specialist, who was quite a big guy, laughed with surprising volume. It was almost a “Brian Blessed” laugh. “Genius is a bit of an emotive term, but certainly mental capabilities higher than the average and, don’t forget, the down side is the problem of continuing headaches.”

“Those bloody headaches!” Alex would happily exchange any improvement in his mental abilities for the absence of mind-numbing pain.

The surgeon smiled, apologetically, though this went unseen. “I can prescribe medication, but, as you probably know, their effectiveness diminishes and can lead to higher, undesirable doses. I would be grateful if you could keep me informed of any unusual side-effects you may notice. I’ll put my card on your bedside cabinet.

Alex thanked him for the information, but doubted if he was ever likely to phone the surgeon with any amazing revelations.

For now, his future did not seem to lie much beyond this bed and in this hospital.

Gradually, over the course of the next few weeks, he was allowed out of bed more often as his body slowly began to heal from the burns. It did come as a relief to be able to stand up after such a long time when he was unable to leave his bed. His legs felt weak and he was shocked to find that he had lost over two stones in weight.

With regular physiotherapy, exercise and a good supply of food, he would be able to regain his body mass, again, yet this would do nothing to bring back his sight.

It came as a fantastic relief when the dressings were finally removed from around his head. The scarring from the shrapnel wounds was annoying and the nurses had to keep reminding Alex to leave them alone without picking at them.

Before the bandages had been removed, Alex wondered if there would be any vision left at all. A faint light, perhaps? Moving shadows as people crossed his line of vision? Anything at all would give him some sign of hope, but the inky blackness which surrounded him told him that his dreams were just that. Pointless, stupid, hopeless dreams!

It was the worst feeling he had ever experienced to be immersed in a pitch black, inky sea of nothing. How deep was this seemingly bottomless, empty pit? Would it ever come to an end?

As he thought about his hopeless, current situation, Alex suddenly remembered an earlier part of his life which, in some ways, was reminiscent. When he was about fifteen, he had a phase when he was crazy about pot-holing. He knew that it could be dangerous, but enjoyed the excitement of finding, as yet, undiscovered underground caverns.

It was on one of these expeditions that he nearly lost his life. His group was making its way back to the surface and, without warning, a sudden rock fall blocked his path. What made it worse was the fact that he was isolated from his friends, the rock fall separating them. His torch had been damaged by the fall, leaving him on his own and in complete darkness. He had many anxious thoughts during his imprisonment and wondered if this was how his life was going to end.

It took several hours of delicate rock removal before the emergency services could release him from this cramped, unlit space. It was an experience he hoped never to repeat and, yet, his current situation had so many similarities.

After this brief exposure to unseen natural light in his present world, small, individual protective dressings were placed over each eye, these being concealed by dark glasses.

In the middle of Alex’s feelings of desperation and hopelessness, he thought of his best friend, who had lost his life in the explosion. For Jack Prentice, the blackness would be everything and permanent. For him, he would not feel the soft touch of the nurse’s skin or any other woman’s, come to that. No earthly exercise would strengthen his muscles. Poor Jack. There was now a huge gap in his life with the death of this best friend.

Alex had first met him at Secondary school. A tall and, at that time, quite skinny boy with a cheeky, infectious grin. He had always had the nickname of “Jack Sprat”, from his build, but it never bothered him. The two eleven year olds made friends immediately. Intellectually similar, the two had remained in the same teaching group throughout all their school years. They had joined the cadets together and it was obvious that both were destined to lead a military career.

Both had achieved ten, high-grade GCSE passes and were able to continue studying for their “A” levels. The divergence came during this time.

Jack had fallen for Suzanne, a good-looking, nicely proportioned girl from their form.

Their somewhat stormy relationship had cost Jack any decent grades in his exams, spoiling his chances of going to Sandhurst, much to the disappointment of his parents.

Jack had admitted to Alex that, when he should have been studying Maths and English for exams, he was, instead, enjoying studying the birthmarks on Suzanne’s nicely-rounded backside.

Meanwhile, Alex had resisted the attention of several girls to concentrate on his studies. He did, however, remember how envious he was of Jack who lost his virginity at least two years before himself. “What is it like to come inside a woman?” he asked enviously.

“Fantastic! Mind-blowing! There’s just no comparison, especially when you both come at the same time. To feel her body give that final shiver of excitement and then just collapsing into each other’s arms. Amazing!”

Alex could see the longing, lusting look in Jack’s eyes, desperate for the next time when he and Suzanne could make love, again, adding to Alex’s own frustration at never having come anywhere close to screwing around. Jack did realize how envious Alex was and tried not to say anything more to frustrate his friend.

It did make Alex wonder if holding back his s****l desires was worth it. There were several girls in his year who he felt attracted towards and had a feeling, no, a certainty that they probably would have gone to bed with him if he had had the courage to approach them. He had put his studies above everything else and had been rewarded for his efforts, but was it worth it?

The two friends still kept in touch even though their paths were leading in slightly different directions. Jack had many girl-friends after Suzanne, none lasting more than a few months. He then joined the army at nineteen, while Alex was at Sandhurst.

Alex had found the fitness and leadership tests harder than he could ever have imagined, but, thankfully, he was accepted by the world-famous military academy. After twelve months of even more rigourous training at Sandhurst, it was gratifying to be able to enlist in the same battalion as Jack and the two companions continued their friendship as though nothing had happened.

Of course, there now was a difference. Jack had more military experience, but his rank as sergeant was less than Alex’s position as second lieutenant and, in the British army, keeping within one’s rank level was important.

Alex had ignored this so-called protocol and had treated Jack as his equal.

On that fateful day, it was Jack who led the charge into that cursed building, only to be blown apart by the Taliban’s bomb. Alex felt so deeply affected by the loss of his good friend and the memories of thirteen years growing up together was precious to him.

Alex was also saddened by his departure from Intensive Care as he had grown fond of the two nurses who had looked after him, particularly Debbie. He liked her sense of humour and had a good feeling whenever she was near. It was the contrast between Debbie and Helen which played on Alex’s mind. Debbie accepted him as a man and treated him normally, while Helen… Well, Helen must have had her own reasons, but, when she had visited him only a few days earlier, she had broken off their engagement.

“I’m so sorry, Alex, but I don’t think I can handle what has happened to you. I do feel terrible.”

“Well, f**k you, Helen Dennison! So you bloody-well should!” thought Alex, but he said nothing

“Tears filled her eyes as she continued, I think it better we leave things alone for now and see how we feel after a while. But, I’m not certain I could manage to be a good military wife.”

Alex’s anger was bubbling under the surface, yet he restrained himself. She must have realized the possibilities of him suffering injury or death as his ambitions for a military career had always been known to her. “If that is what you want, Helen.” He remained cool, distant and impassive.

Again, she repeated, “I’m so sorry.”

He remembered how they had met. His parents had organized a big celebration for his twenty-first birthday, which, fortunately, coincided with his military leave. Helen Dennison had been the Occasions manager at the Hilton hotel selected for his celebration. There had been a mix-up in the catering arrangements for the seventy-five guests expected at Alex’s party. Helen had managed to resolve the problem with quiet efficiency, but still felt it necessary to apologise to him in person.

As the two met, the chemistry between them was instant. Within days, they had their first romantic date and, within six months, they were engaged. Alex’s career made it difficult to arrange the wedding, especially since both parents wanted to organize huge celebrations and, ironically, they were to be married two months after his current tour of duty. Now, that had all disappeared with Alex’s hospitalization and Helen’s change of heart.

That was the last he had seen of her after three beautiful, enjoyable years together. Three years of laughter, love and passion. Many times, he had imagined having at least three, possibly four children with Helen. A life full of happiness and companionship. He felt deflated and cheated and was more scared of the future than at any time in his life.

How he hated the Taliban for what they had done. The death of three of his comrades, the loss of his eyesight resulting in the ending of his military career and, to cap it all, the woman he loved had now finished their relationship.

A memorial service had been held for Jack and his comrades, together with other soldiers whose lives had been cut far too short through the actions in Afghanistan, but, sadly, Alex’s condition prevented him from attending. He did, however, ‘watch’ the news on television, where the memorial service was covered in detail, with a very moving, descriptive commentary.

He felt a mixture of anger and sadness at such unnecessary loss of life and Alex realized that, even though his eyes were useless, his tear ducts were still functioning.

Since Alex was now more mobile, he was able to use the bathroom, giving him back some of his dignity. He had been given so many bed-baths and had suffered psychologically by having to use bed-pans, that he actually felt liberated when he could use the toilet in private. Debbie had shown him where everything was located in the bathroom and he soon mastered the controls on all the appliances. Alex had always preferred to shave using the traditional wet razor, feeling that they gave a much closer shave than their electric equivalent. He had thought that it would be impossible to shave without being able to see his image in a mirror, but, in fact, it was an unnecessary luxury. In reality, one just had to feel round the face, instinctively knowing which areas to avoid.

One morning, Alex was feeling particularly depressed by his hopeless situation and, while shaving, he suddenly realized that he could end all his problems. The solution lay in the small, plastic-handled Gillette razor which he was now holding. All he had to do was to slice into either his neck or wrist. He stood motionless for what seemed an eternity, thinking of his situation. “Would anybody really care if he was dead? He still longed for a military career, but without sight, how could this ever be possible? “The wrist is probably easier. All I have to do is find the main artery, slice into it and the heart would do the rest pumping the life-blood out of my body.” He felt for the pulse, knowing that one quick slice of the razor would be enough. “What happens, though, if Debbie finds me before I am dead? She would do everything to try and stem the blood flow and, after that, I would not be allowed to use a razor again.

In addition, I would be put on a suicide watch and everybody would think I was a coward.” Then another thought hit him. “How would it affect my parents and younger sisters? Could I really put them through so much heartache?”

Alex mulled over all these thoughts and, after what seemed hours rather than minutes, pulled himself together when he heard Debbie’s voice through the door. “Are you alright, Alex? Do you need any assistance?” The vigilant nurse had noticed how quiet Alex was and decided to check.

“Fine, thanks, Debbie. Almost finished shaving.”

“Good. I have your medication here, when you are ready.” Alex would have been surprised to learn that the nursing staff was already keeping a close eye on their patient. The depth of his depression had been noticed and all staff had been advised to be alert to the possibility of suicide.

Alex finished shaving, washed his face, patted it dry and applied after-shave. In those few seconds, he had decided that it would be incredibly stupid to end his life and was determined to face the future, whatever it may bring.