Life itself was a gifted thing, it could hold so many precious moments that some hold dear, but unfortunately Ghosts past wasn't like that. Even in the beginning where his innocence was supposed to be expressed, but he never got to have it in the way others did.

After everything he experienced, the trauma, the pain, the overwhelming feeling of ptsd, all of it did too much to him but he kept kicking.

A couple days ago when on a mission, one of the enemies that fell for one of the mines that was installed blew up. The enemy became nothing more then a massive splat on his uniform and his mask. After that he needed to just wine down and stay in.

Now laying in the bathtub within his barracks. Fully clothed in his military clothes and his skull balaclava, feeling so numb to the point where he just didn't care. The dried blood that soaked into his clothes created little streaks around him. He just laid there, watching the steam from the scolding hot bath rise up into his view of the ceiling, his eyes all glossy and slightly widened. All he could do is just sit there...mind blank like a chalkboard.