''A house divided cannot stand" The essence of these words resonates throughout my body with a harsh truthfulness, taken from biblical context, and made famous by Abraham Lincoln, when he was in fact referring to the North and South in Civil war context, but in utter irony he prophetically describes current times. The bitterness of the cold biting my face awakes me from this trance, and I am again submerged in the horror of my current situation. Darkness has completely consumed me, a black void so inescapable, it's as if God himself reached out into the sky and snatched up the sun. Silence now sets in, so silent its almost deafening, all is still. The acrid smell of sulfur clings in the air, with each gasping breath I seek, soot and dust replace the majority of the oxygen I am so used to breathing in. Ha used to, the thought is almost comical now; there were many things all of us were "used to" before the infamous collapse.
Rubbing my temples I try to expel the inevitable shock, which all remaining survivors are so used to contracting after these daily "incidents". I can now hear the bone chilling moans and cries of the injured, I want so badly to wake up from this nightmare, yet this nightmare is and will continue to be, the reality that we all now live in. Any semi-knowledgeable person would have seen this infamous collapse coming, if for a minute lapse of time, would have lifted the veil of self righteousness and actually paid attention to the advisers. Yet, there is no one to blame but ourselves. I, me, and my, selfish words that engraved themselves into each of our very beings, blame so quick to be shirked, yet we place most upon the leaders of what WAS our free world. If only we would have left the troops there, if only we would have paid more attention to the oppressive tyrant from... if, if, and more ifs. I have been over all possible scenarios, ways as a nation we could have avoided this, and yes, the possibilities are endless, but the fact of the matter is we didn't. We let politics, and party lines, contort our thinking, worrying only about what the “masses thought”.
I now am the insurgent, terrorizing my tyrannical leaders. Using many of the same methods they used upon us. The land of the free, is gone... all ideals, ways of life, the very essence of what made us Americans has been shattered. Our foundation has been systematically demolished by a group of people who hate, and have always hated us for thousands of years. I pray, in this seemingly god-forsaken land, for mercy daily. The hand of our captors is mighty, they seem soulless, and will by any means necessary get their point across. Brutality, torture, murder, and bombings like the one I now sit in, have become entrenched in our every day lives. 
I will lead. I will fight. I will stand tall. Placing myself in the same category as the terrorists we rightfully attacked, I will fight for the precious freedom once possessed that we arrogantly and ignorantly let slip away.
“How could it have ended like this? Please Lord, give me one more chance!” I am screaming now, the cool tears run slowly down my face as the ruins around me mask my sobs. Countless questions pour themselves upon me. Where is she? Is she alive? Why did they take her from me? Why me? Why, Why, why god? The longing to find these answers consume my very being. All that I do or say is fueled by this rage, a harnessed aggression aimed at taking back what was once ours, from sea to shining sea. I desperately cling to this one last bit of hope, longing only to be reunited with my wife. I miss her dearly, yet miss does not do justice in describing the void being apart from her has left in my heart. A hole, that no thing or accomplishment will ever fill.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I begin to survey my current position as well as condition that the most recent bombing has left me in. I have mobility in all joints and limbs; I have not lost feeling or consciousness. I know I must now act quickly and remove myself from this rubble and head for the mountains, for the soldiers will be coming soon. I have been on the move for sixteen straight days now, alienated from any comforts of home, stopping only long enough to eat and rest for a couple of hours, always weary to keep watch on my trail, making sure none have followed me. Ironically I live the same life style that Osama Bin Laden and the other terrorists must have lived, hiding in caves and cliffs amidst vast mountain ranges, moving from place to place to avoid being captured, scheming and plotting ways to attack or defend. The very thought of this chills me to the bone. I now am the outlaw, with a price on my head. My name no doubt littering the news and papers as theirs once did, those in “charge” longing to calculate my next move or whereabouts with hopes of a capture.
My legs now grow weary, yet I know I must continue. Everything inside of me screams stop, yet I press onward. I scan this treacherous terrain I am consumed amidst looking for a place suitable enough to stop and stay for a few nights of much needed rest. I continue walking and looking when a glimmer catches my eye and stops me dead in my tracks. I fall to the ground and roll behind a large bolder. Peering around the rock, yet staying completely hidden I search the forest for the source of this light. I see it now something I had completely missed earlier yet seeming so obvious now. The remains of an old log home position their selves directly in front of me completely encompassed by white pine trees, to the left lies a steep rocky cliff sloping downwards at almost ninety degrees and to the right there is nothing but dense forest. A branch cracks, and I again fall flat on my stomach, fear stricken and shaking.
“No one could have followed me up here, could they?” I pondered this thought in my head, all the while checking the clip in my handgun. 7 shots. My rifle still has twenty rounds in the magazine, and I still have three grenades.
“Let them make the first move.” I mumble under my breath, hoping and waiting for them to reveal their position.
The sound of footsteps could be clearly heard, they were coming closer, no they couldn’t be, it seemed as though they were right on top of me now. Countless scenarios ran through my mind and my heart began to accelerate, do I stand and shoot and fight with all my will, do I stay lying here until I must do something…? I slowed my breathing, and again began to listen. All was quiet, no more footsteps; no more crunching of the leaves or twigs…then it hit me. An intense pain in the back of my head... my vision began slipping, I tried to scream but the words wouldn’t come, I can’t lose consciousness, I fight yet its no use, the blackness sets in…
The summer wind blows softly across her face, moving the golden strands of hair in a rather angelic style. All attention was aimed towards her, anticipation hung crisply in the air. There was just something about the way she moved that mesmerized all. The sun danced its warm rays across her flawless complexion and the beauty of the event seemingly stopped time. It was her day, shared by two, and yet all knew whom the focus was truly on. The sweet melody of a piano interrupted the silence, but only added to heavenly scene set before the guests. My palms sweated, heart raced, and the childish giddy feeling was overwhelming. With each step she drew nearer, the world fell out of sight. It was just she and I, eyes locked hearts entwined. It was the day, it finally had come, and the awe of the moment reverberated throughout my body,
“Stay calm,” I whispered to myself
Reaching out and grabbing her hand, the warmth was sent head to toe. It fit so perfectly into mine, her hand did, like the final piece of a puzzle put into place, all of the searching, frustration, and overwhelming predicaments, but this last piece completed the beauty of what was meant to be. Meant to be… nothing could be truer of us.
But something wasn’t right, the look on her face, the lack of smile, and the cold hard eyes looking at me, her hand began to slip away, I won’t let it, I can’t let it, Don’t go please I scream, yet the words never come out, I try to run but I am stuck in place, her hand slips through my as though sand through fingers, a darkness sets in, don’t go…
My eyelids feel as though they weigh one thousand pounds yet I manage to open them. The light instantly blinds me, and again they are forced shut. A sharp throbbing pain is coming from the back of my head, and the faint sounds of voices can be heard.