Dear Diary,

Oh diary, I can't bear to do this anymore! Even though I'm desperately needed, my sanity is hanging on by a thin gossamer thread. All the horrors I have seen… no human should be subjected to such monstrosities. All I can continue to think of is, 'will it ever end?' will this madness ever stop? Alas, I do not know.

Over the past few weeks, the strain of having to keep up with so many injured and deceased soldiers has been wearing on me greatly. The circles under my eyes are so dark; they absorb my eyes, making it impossible for anyone to tell what my true eye color is. I've had these dark bags under my eyes for so long; I cannot remember what I look like without them.

The ambulance driver, God bless his kind-hearted soul, has told me to take a break, to get some much deserved and needed rest. I cannot. Every time I shut my eyes, all I can see is the dismay around me. It infects my dreams and spreads like poison. I have stopped sleeping almost all together because of my nightmares.

Today something happened. Even though by now I'm used to it, (which is a terrifying thought) I saw and patched up a young man, fresh out of adolescence. A bomb had gone off too close to him and blasted his legs into nothingness. The blood was everywhere, but the shock in his body prevented him from really feeling anything. Yet, how could I tell him that he would never walk again? How could I bear to see the look of grief on his face as he realized he'd never be able to run around with his future children? I just couldn't do that. So sitting back, I listened in a trace, as the ambulance driver, Mark is what I think his name is, chatted with the wounded combatant. I could see the overwhelming amount of misery and pity Mark held for the youth in his eyes. He wanted to make the young male soldier as comfortable as possible, as we rode to the makeshift hospital.

Yet it was when then boy asked for his legs to be covered, that a sickness erupted in me. I felt dizzy and ill, my stomach clenching involuntarily as Mark's face paled. As soon as the ambulance halted, I sprinted out of the back and threw up in a corner. Even after I emptied my stomach, it kept gritting and aching. I couldn't look him in the eyes as I watched him being carted off to the hospital. Sadly diary, I must go now. My lost souls wail for help.

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