Open Wounds:
Simone’s Notes:
In psychology, as well as in ordinary language, guilt is an affective state in which one experiences conflict at having done something that one believes one should not have done. It gives rise to a feeling which does not go away easily, driven by 'conscience'. Sigmund Freud described this as the result of a struggle between the ego and the superego parental imprinting. Freud rejected the role of God as punisher in times of illness or rewarder in time of wellness. While removing one source of guilt from patients, he described another. This was the unconscious force within the individual that contributed to illness. The victim of someone else's accident or bad luck may be offered criticism, the theory being that the victim may be at fault for having attracted the other person's hostility. Guilt and its causes, merits, and demerits are common themes in psychology and psychiatry. It is often associated with anxiety, and sometimes depression.
With the wine of sinners came the bitter taste of guilt. Everyone slowly breathed it in. For Carole and Damon, it only opened old wounds. They thought that they would be swimming through it alone again. But yet, help came in the form of other the most unlikely people.
Havoc was heading home for the night when he heard a low groaning noise from the alley. The lt. put up his guard began to draw out his gun.
“Who’s there?” he asked. The groan slurred out into the streets. Havoc squinted his eyes for a better look. A man staggered toward him, drunk. Havoc’s eyes widened in shock.
“Sanders?” he asked. Damon looked up at him with red blood-shot eyes. A crazed smile came onto his smile.
“Jeanie!” he exclaimed. “Jeanie! Old friend!” He rushed forward to hug the lt., but Havoc backed away just in time.
“Good lord!” he exclaimed. “You’ve drowned yourself in booze!” Damon began to look really sick. Havoc looked concerned.
“Sanders?” he asked. “Sanders, what’s wrong?”
“I think I’m going to be sick!” Damon whimpered out.
“Oh shit!” the lt. mumbled as he looked around for something for Damon to puke in. “Uh… try to hold it down the best that you can, okay?” Damon shook his head.
“I don’t think I can!” Then, he threw up all over Havoc as he had just found a box for him to puke in. Havoc cringed in disgust.
“Aw, what the hell?!?” the lt. yelled. Damon stood back, smiling a bit.
“Ah, that’s so better,” he said. A short pause came by them. But then, Damon felt sick again and threw up on himself. He looked down at himself in the rain.
“Aw, yuck!” he said.
“Yeah,” Havoc agreed, nodding.
Meanwhile, Mustang went over to Sanders’ residence and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” a voice asked on the other side.
“It’s me, General Mustang,” Roy answered.
“Okay, I’m coming.” Mustang waited on the front porch. The door slowly opened wide. Carole peeked out of the corner.
“Yes?” she whispered. Mustang looked confused for a brief moment.
“Uh…” he said. “Is your husband in?” Carole shook her head.
“No,” she replied. “He’s out at the moment.” Mustang raised an eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean? It’s close to midnight,” he pointed out. Carole nodded as she tried to keep down her embarrassment and sorrow. Mustang nodded as he came to understand the situation rather quickly.
“Ah,” he said. “I see.” Carole looked down at her feet.
“May I come in?” Roy asked. The WAG didn’t open; she just stepped aside. The general walked inside.
In the apartment complex, Havoc was washing his and Damon’s clothes in the washer. Sanders sat on the couch, trembling.
“I am sooooo sorry about that,” he said at last.
“Not a problem,” Havoc mumbled.
“I mean, that was out line for me.”
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t normally do this.”
“Damon, it’s fine. Really!” The other man went silent. That sparked an interesting thought into Havoc’s mind.
“Say, what’s been going on with you lately?” Damon paused and turned around. His face went a bitter pale color. Oh, he knew this was coming.
“Uh… what do you mean?” Havoc turned on the washing machine and walked into the kitchen. He sat down with the colonel. Damon felt his stomach drop. Havoc looked him dead-on in the eye.
Mustang walked around the dark living room as he looked at the pictures on the wall.
“Can I get you anything?” Carole asked. Mustang shook his head.
“No, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“I am fine.” Carole nodded nervously.
“Okay…” She sat down on the couch. She heaved out an exhausted sigh.
“So why are you here? Is Damon in trouble again?” Mustang looked at her oddly. The key word here was “again.”
“No,” he replied. “I just want to talk to him.” Carole didn’t look up from her feet.
“I see…” Mustang walked over to her and sat down.
“Why, has he been in trouble before?” The WAG looked over at him uneasily. She knew that she had said too much now.
Damon looked down at the table with his hand trembling. He nervously bit his lip.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain…”
“How hard?” Damon exhaled his self-respect, or rather what was left of it, as he broke down to tell Havoc the truth.
“I am mess.”
“I can see that.”
“No, I mean it! I am a mess.” Havoc went quiet for a moment.
“Okay… so, you are a mess.” Damon nodded once. He sighed and buried his face on the table.
“Ho man, I am f****d.”
“Why is that?” Damon sat up and sighed.”
Carole looked up at the ceiling.
“I love my husband very much,” she said. “He just has many problems.”
“What do you mean?” Carole looked over at Mustang.
“They started when his sister died.” The flame alchemist looked at her, stunned.
“He has a sister?”
“Had,” Damon corrected Havoc when he asked the similar question to him.
“Well, what happened? How did she die?” Damon looked down at his feet.
“I need a drink.”
“Oh no! Not after what happened earlier! No more drinks for you tonight!”
“But, I can’t tell my story sober.”
“Try!” Damon felt like he was going to throw up once again. The spike of guilt was shooting through his liver, stomach, and finally touching his heart. Havoc had just ripped open an old wound that refuse to heal properly. Damon’s hands trembled again.
“Years ago, my little sister, Tanya, and I were staying home alone during a storm. This storm had been going on for three days now. One day, it was calm. Tanya wanted to go outside and play. I wasn’t too sure about that.
“‘I don’t think it’s safe outside,’ I told her.
“‘Please big brother!’ Tanya pleaded. ‘It’s just fine out! Look!’ She showed me to the window. I looked out of it for a moment. My little sister looked at me with that sweet little face of hers.
“‘Please, can we go outside? Pleaseeee?’ At the time, the storm hadn’t really passed, we were just in the eye of it. I forgot about all of that when I looked at Tanya’s sweet little face. I sighed in happy defeat.
“‘Fine,’ I said. ‘But you have to stay by me at all times.’ Tanya was so happy. We went to play along the stream near our house. It all seemed great, at first. But then, it began to rain. Very badly. The storm had come back.
“‘Tanya, come on, we have to get out of the storm!’ I yelled. She raced over to me from the stream. But, she slipped and fell back into the rushing waters.
“‘Damon, help me!’ she cried. I ran over to pulled her out the water. She wasn’t a strong swimmer. I tried my best to pull her back out.
“‘Don’t let go!’ I yelled at her” Tears welled up in Damon’s eyes. He let out a heavy sob before finishing up.
“Her hand slipped out of mine and the heavy currents carried her down the stream. They found her body nine days later. Mom smacked me in the face after the funeral and said that I killed her baby.” Damon lowered his head onto the table and cried.
“It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault!”
“No, it’s not.” Damon looked up at him with tears in his eyes.
“Huh?” Havoc lightly shook his head.
“No. You were young and you didn’t know any better.” Damon slowly shook his head.
“No, you don’t understand.” Havoc gave him a little smile.
“Try me. I will be here all night.” Damon shook his head, nervously. Could he even tell Havoc the truth? This was the first time in years he opened up about his problems. Could he keep on? Did he have the strength and courage to go on? The coming floods are forcing everything out into the light.
