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Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 23:20:40 GMT
He turns around when he hears someone behind him trying to contact him and he turns his upperbody around so he can look over his shoulder, still holding the bag in his lap. A weird feeling of calm flood over his senses as he sees the boy behind him, but he doesnt reflect much over it as he replies;
"Yeah"
He's not addicted though. He doesnt even feel like smoking right now even when his mind was getting to him. There are just a few situations where he feels the real urge to grab a cigarette...doesn't mean he doesnt have some close to grab though..
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Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 23:28:00 GMT
The guy looks somewhat familiar, though I can't really place him.. it's not even his face that I seem to recognize or anything. There's something about the way he moved, or his eyes moved, or even the way he replied. But I don't bother to think twice about it. There's a whole crowd of men here, and I'm not surprised to think I recognize one of 'em..
I used to do that all the time. When I walked the streets, I recognized my parents. All the time. I recognized anyone I wanted to see there. My brother. My grandpa. Even the cat the Watsons used to have looked remarkably much like the cat our neighbours had when I was only four years old.. Each disappointment brought me a piece of reality, and maybe that was really what I was looking for when I tried to picture the ones I thought of in the faces of others.
Insanity.
When the Watsons started asking me whether I wanted to see someone and talk about this sorta stuff with that guy, I brushed it off as insane illusions. No way on earth I needed a shrink.
So that's what I do now. I brush it off, within a few seconds. And I get up from the bed and show him the package of PallMall in my hand. "Got a lighter for me?" I ask.
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Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 23:34:13 GMT
"Yeah.."
he quickly starts rummage around in his bag again, his back towards the man. Max realizes he's frowning slightly...maybe at that strange feeling he got in that second..a feeling he couldn't place...an unfamiliar feeling...a feeling of...familiariaty? yeah maybe..that unfamiliar feeling of familiarity.
God, I might need a cigarette anyway
he sighed slightly, making it look like he sighed cause he couldnt find the lighter, but he just sighed at his mind when he realized how he was thinking...as always. He knew he had compulsive thinking, fragile mind at times..and he guessed that's why it would look so weird for him to sign up as a soldier in war.
He thinks too much.
He finds the lighter and also his half package of cigarettes and he stands up and holds the lighter out to the man
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Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 23:40:35 GMT
"Thanks." I take the lighter and put the cigarette between my lips. I roll the wheel of the lighter quickly, letting it spark and flame. And as I hold the flame beneath the cigarette I inhale to make it catch fire.
When it glows I hand the lighter back to the guy and I take the cigarette inbetween thumb and forefinger. I observe him, though I make sure to keep it so subtle that he won't think I'm staring. I assume that he's a little taller than I am, also maybe older. Not by much though. His hair and eyes are both dark and he has obviously not shaved that morning. Your regular G.I. Joe, ladies and gentlemen. All-American. I bet he played football in highschool.
Still, there's something familiar about him even after a second glance.
I look away and inhale another drag from my cigarette. Not starting that again. I remind myself.
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Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 23:48:29 GMT
He lights a cigarette aswell and then put the lighter down in his bag again.
oh, nicotine..you better calm me down..though I might need more this time..
he stands up and mumbles;
"Gonna take some fresh air"
Now that is the stupidest thing to say when you're gonna get outdoors for a smoke
He takes a step away from the bed, but then stops.
My bag! No..leave it.
He looks at his bag.
Leave it.
He grabs it and makes sure its closed and then puts it underneath his bed and takes a deep drag of his cigarette.
I gotta stop with these thoughts sometime here
He looks at the man again...or young man...he might look younger than he is though.. a weird feeling of familiarity chases his mind again, but he takes another drag and mumbles.
"I'm gonna get out for awhile.."
he walks towards the entrance of the tent, his cigarette between his lips and he tries to avoid bumping into people, pushing his arms tighter to his side of his body as he walks zick-zack between the men and then feels more relived as he steps outside.
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Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 23:52:08 GMT
I glance at the guys bag when he's gone, and smirk which nearly causes the cigarette to drop from my lips. Pretty paranoid are we? I noticed his doubt whether to leave it or not. Maybe he's got a bomb in there. Should've asked his name. Maybe it's Charlie.
I grin to myself as I as well get up and go to the exit on the opposite side of the tent. I do need that fresh air, and I do need to get away from the crowd. But I don't feel like getting familiar with anyone. So I tactfully avoid 'Charlie' on my way out.
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Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 23:55:50 GMT
He looks around the place as he takes a deep drag, then closes his eyes and tries to empty his mind for awhile. The cigarette helps..he slowly opens his eyes again, not feeling as tense as before and he continues looking around, taking off his jacket and hangs it over his one shoulder.
Damn it is really hot here...or it's just my nerves...no, it is just hot here
he takes another drag.
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Post by Jacky on Jan 6, 2007 12:26:10 GMT
I sit down outside the tent, where I'm not in anybody's way. I tap some ash of the tip of my cigarette and look around curiously. It's really obvious which men are newbies and which have been here for a while. Well.. quite naturally! The newbies are all in their own clothes, the others in army green, high boots, white tshirts. They all look the same. I wonder when the rest of us will get dressed up like that..
I take another drag of the cigarette as I think about it. According to that guy that escorted us in the helicopter, tonight we would be taught of a lot of basic knowladge. Normally there's a period of 6 weeks in a training camp for that, but because they desperately needed men down here they decided to ship us over right away. Tonight, we'll be taught how to fire a rifle, what orders means what command, how to survive in the Vietnamese jungle.. I doubt they can teach us lot though.
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Post by PirateOTC on Jan 6, 2007 13:02:21 GMT
He looks around at the men running back and forth over the camp, then put his cigarette out on the ground and walks back in, making his way in the crowded tent to get to his bed. He feels much better now, nothing to worry about. He'll make this. He goes to his bed and picks up his bag determinded and starts re-packing it, only the most neccessary stuff goes back into his bag, he has a smaller one for the stuff he'll leave in the tent.
All the running around, the shoutings, the military dressed macho-men is making him a bit stressed, but he guesses that is good; to come into the right rythm of a soldier.
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Post by Jacky on Jan 6, 2007 13:38:21 GMT
I check my watch. The arms of the clock inside are silver, and reflect the sunlight into my eyes as I turn my wrist slowly. It was a present from my 'father', which I got for my tenth birthday. It's one of those amazing watches, which are accurate for over a century, and won't break if you drop them, and you can dive for a mile without its li'll clock stopping. Not like I feel the urge to dive that deep.. but it's nice to know that I COULD, nonetheless.
It's five minutes to six. Eighteen-hundred, soldier. I correct myself.
I smoke the last of my cigarette and carefully stub it out, before I return to the tent. I go over to my matress and sit down on the edge, waiting for something to happen. I crack my knuckles, a li'll anxious.
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