I'm a little depressed.

Savage Snake wrote: It feels like I’m reliving my childhood. It was ripped apart by war. Father dies, then my brothers run off to die with him. Then my brother my closest friend, my only brother left that I got to play with and love and just have fun, goes off and dies. I blamed everyone, including my mother, as if she wasn’t depressed enough. Then when I told here I was leaving, I could tell that I killed her, the last bit off hope in her life was going off to war to die. She never spoke to me again, exsept that letter. I forget what topic it was, but I think it was the gothic one or something, I wrote it down there. My whole life is printed on this website, I am an open book.

Now that I can’t see my family, I feel like I’m ripping my family apart, that now its my fault. All I can do is stay alive.

ChaosSpartan wrote: so you’re in a wheel chair?

goldenraptor wrote: That story was altered in many ways. It wasn’t as interesting or excited as I made it out to me, the lust of ambition got to me. I am also sorry for misleading you, as only part of the story was true.

In short, I was dropped in an LZ, where there was continuous enemy fire. About five hours out, I was shot in the leg, a slight graze, and then a grenade fired shrapnel into it, severing vital communication lines. I couldn’t move my toes. It was dead weight up to about my knee. I was put on morphine and had it amputated and burned there. The burning was less painful than you would believe, and I was shipping in a helicopter to a local hospital, where I was promptly sent back to the states.

goldenraptor wrote: Metal prosthetic leg. Far more convenient. I can still ride bicycles.