Kate Gillie


Flashbacks are not Memories

Hyper vigilance is a fact of my life.  I grew up hunted.  No adult was safe to be close to.  Nobody was trusted.  Those that I had loved and trusted had been murdered, massacred, machete’d into tiny pieces of useless flesh, blood and vomit.  Sound extreme?  How could you understand.  You who sit quietly comfortable in front of your favourite cop show on t.v.?  The reality of violent death and torture are so far removed from you that words like this fall like hyperbole in a windstorm of make-believe. A childhood in an african civil war adjusts reality perceptions permanently.  Live to Die.  Die to Live. A heartbeat.  Perspiration.  Thoughts.  Emotions.  Subtle body cues.  Faces, so much information.  All the time, every day, every minute.  The noise in my head is deafening.  Mostly I just avoid big social events, when I can’t, I scan the room for safety.  Hide behind…