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I Saw Something Disturbing


When you see something traumatic, you’re supposed to go through some sort of short-term PTSD right? That should be normal and you’re expected to be jumpy and extremely scared to the point where you need a few months to a year of therapy. Perfectly normal.

Last week, I saw something disturbing. I had just finished a closing shift at my shitty retail job, leaving a quarter to midnight. After about five minutes on the highway, a big white truck merged in front of me off the ramp from the surrounding residential area. It was one of those square delivery trucks with the big windows on the back doors. Anyway, the truck was lit up from the inside and there were two figures fighting.

The sound of the gunshot brought me to a screeching halt. The splatter of what looked like brain matter and blood hit the back window with such force, I swear I heard just when it made contact. The truck kept driving, swerving left and right in what I can only assume was a struggle, before another gunshot rang in the air. It veered off to the left, just barely hitting the divider, before it started driving normally again at what was probably at least 100mph.

I called the cops, answered their questions. They said they’d look out for them, but without the entire license plate number, they didn’t have much to go on. They thanked me for contacting them and sent me away, while subtly suggesting I “talk to someone about it”, as in get help, because what you saw was fucked up. And it was. For a good majority of my time at the station, I found myself merely staring into space, in a state of shock.

That’s normal. Perfectly normal.

My parents picked me up, adamant about taking me to see a shrink. I refused, but now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have. I started hallucinating, I guess you could say. Hearing gunshots in place of car horns, and most disturbingly, seeing blood. I see blood everywhere now. When I greet customers at work, I see blood pouring down their faces, staining their clothes. When I wipe the mustard off my mouth with a napkin, I see blood. Kids were jumping in blood puddles down the street from my house. When I take out the garbage in the morning, the inside looks like it’s filled with torn up flesh and dripping entrails. This is all apart of the PTSD right? That’s normal.

Perfectly normal.

But in all honesty, should I be worried? I mean hearing gunshots whenever I drive is getting a bit annoying, but other than that, I’m not scared. Isn’t that part of being traumatized? Aren’t I supposed to be flinching at the sight of people guzzling brain matter out of a water bottle? Is it normal that in place of sheer terror and anxiety, I feel completely calm?

I find that I smile much more now.

I feel warm and happy.

Is that normal?

—
Credits to: photofreecreepypasta

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