My life is changed; I will never be the same again. I have seen things I believe no man should ever have to see. I have seen the earth scarred and bloodied; I have seen men laying in great pain, their bodies ripped apart by the explosions that erupted around them. Their eyes full of pain, and their mouths twisted into unheard screams; their blood pouring into pools beneath their bodies, or what is left of them. I have seen pieces that should have been attached to a living, breathing, human being.... But were not, instead the pieces lay in a separate puddles of blood, yards away from the man that used to own them. And worst of all, I have seen the faces of dead men. Their eyes are always fogged and soulless, never blinking, always staring up at the smoke filled sky, or they stare down into the bloody dirt. Their mouths frozen into their final moments of life; crooked to form their last note of agonizing pain... The last scream they would ever utter.
They are everywhere, all sprawled across the ground. I can't ever stop thinking about them, even as I write the stench of decay rises up into my nostrils, reminding me that they are still out there. I have been through so many battles, I have fired my rifle so many times, and it frightens me to think that one of those bodies laying out in the fields before me could possibly have died from one of my bullets... This thought never leaves my head, the countless bodies and faces laying on the ground haunt me day and night; I dream about their cold, soulless stares every night, and every morning I wake to their stench. I don't know how much more I can take, they don't ever leave my mind! I can always hear the sounds of cannons even when I know the battle is over, the ground always seems to be red instead of green. Every night I fear to sleep because I know that only a horrifying nightmare awaits me, all I can ever think about are all the horrible things I have seen... My friends all just laying there, my brother just laying there, the men that I killed, just laying there, and all the others just laying there. I constantly hear the cries of broken men, and I don't think they ever will ever leave me alone... Unless, unless I end it. Funny how writing a simple journal entry can lead you to realize how hoplesss it all truly is. So now it's time for me to become another one, just... Laying there.
The entry ends there. Many American soldiers took their own lives during the Civil War, all of them hoping to stop the horrible visions of the battles they had lived through, I suppose John was another one of those men.