Letter To Abu Ghraib Monologue
Today I got a letter in the mail from my nemesis. I fiddled with my wedding ring and took a deep gulp of air in before breaking the seal. The thought of Donald Rumsfeld knowing where I live and how to contact me made me shudder.
It was a curt, clear message. Took me about thirty seconds to read between the lines of fancy, stilted words. Ol’ Don wanted me to keep quiet about how he ratted me out on national television. There was no thank you. No sympathy.
The army and the government hated me and I knew it. The guards stationed around my house, protecting me and my wife Bernadette from murderers, hated me too. The man who harassed her hated me. Why else would they keep me in hiding? Why else would Rumsfeld “accidentally” out me?
Working in the office of Abu Ghraib had me bored out of my mind. The rest of my MP unit were stationed as guards, but I was holed up with computers and spreadsheets and phone calls. The best thing was looking out of a small window into the vast desert. I could see my insignificance roll out into the horizon. I had always wanted to send this feeling back home so that Bernadette could have a taste of what I was experiencing.
Graner and Sabrina were the photo buffs back at Abu Ghraib. I …show more content…
I saw their skinny, defaced, naked bodies. I saw Graner’s smile. I replayed the casual interaction in which he handed me over the CDs. Who would trust anyone with photos like that? I spent hours thinking about why he would hand them over to me. I figured he just didn’t know that all his “trophy pictures” were on the disc, and that either way, he would have trusted me. We were from the same unit, both small-time kids. I joined the army to fund college. Little did I know I would never get to go. In those weeks before I told the investigators, I tried to distinct myself from Graner. But I knew that the only way to assert the goodness of my character would be to
It was a curt, clear message. Took me about thirty seconds to read between the lines of fancy, stilted words. Ol’ Don wanted me to keep quiet about how he ratted me out on national television. There was no thank you. No sympathy.
The army and the government hated me and I knew it. The guards stationed around my house, protecting me and my wife Bernadette from murderers, hated me too. The man who harassed her hated me. Why else would they keep me in hiding? Why else would Rumsfeld “accidentally” out me?
Working in the office of Abu Ghraib had me bored out of my mind. The rest of my MP unit were stationed as guards, but I was holed up with computers and spreadsheets and phone calls. The best thing was looking out of a small window into the vast desert. I could see my insignificance roll out into the horizon. I had always wanted to send this feeling back home so that Bernadette could have a taste of what I was experiencing.
Graner and Sabrina were the photo buffs back at Abu Ghraib. I …show more content…
I saw their skinny, defaced, naked bodies. I saw Graner’s smile. I replayed the casual interaction in which he handed me over the CDs. Who would trust anyone with photos like that? I spent hours thinking about why he would hand them over to me. I figured he just didn’t know that all his “trophy pictures” were on the disc, and that either way, he would have trusted me. We were from the same unit, both small-time kids. I joined the army to fund college. Little did I know I would never get to go. In those weeks before I told the investigators, I tried to distinct myself from Graner. But I knew that the only way to assert the goodness of my character would be to