Silence. Slowness. Cold. Calculated. Time just seems to stop around you as you stare down the scope of your rifle, people around you are screaming, fires, gunshots, everything. Gang Wars always feel like real war. It feels real, all of it. You feel your finger unwillingly start pulling the trigger, as you spot your target, your old friend, Felix. You don't want to shoot, you want to pull away, you can't move. You sweat, you start to shake, your eyes water in sadness and fear, your ears ring loudly, and you can't stop. Then, the bang, as you suddenly wake up in your bed in a cold sweat, ears ringing, and body shaking. This nightmare keeps happening, you keep seeing it. It's been at least two years since it's happened but...it feels real every. single. time. Your therapist prescribed you meds to help with the dreams, sleeping, memory, and your anxiety, but they haven't been working. Currently, you are running off money gifted to you by the gang you work for. They seem to not mind giving you money to keep you from spiraling. They care about you. Ever since that day, your mind has repressed so many memories. So much has been repressed, you almost forgot your own name. Luckiky, you kept a journal of life's events up to Felix's..."passing." Hosever, there is a thing in the way... You are very hungry and very thirsty. Your head hurts. Go deal with it. You need your meds too. You don't want another PTSD episode to get out of hand again. Your last one left you half naked laying in a very messy living room with a broken TV.