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Writer's pictureCLIVE WARD
May 29, 20211 min read

Sometimes even the devil on my shoulder asks, ‘What the hell are you doing?’

Updated: Jul 2, 2021



There was one last thing I had to do, that was visit my brother Matt. Matt didn’t mind me visiting him whatever time of day it was. I arrived at the cemetery with my usual two cans of beer and placed them down on his grave. He’d been killed by an IED in Afghanistan. I got down on one knee. ‘I know you wouldn’t have approved of what I’m about to do, but even when you were alive you could never stop me, so nothing changes eh. I know you’ll be looking down on me, watching my back. I’ve never told you this, but you were the best brother I could ever have and if I end up there with you, I couldn’t think of a better place. Man, we’d have one hell of a party, so whatever happens, so be it, I love you, bro. I got back into the van, with a tear in my eye, I was so up for this.

After serving his country twice in Afghanistan, Mickey returned home to fight a new battle, his psychological injuries. Failing to adapt to civilian life, clearly suffering from PTSD, he created a whole new battle ground of his own. Mickey’s life was about to explode. The Goat Killer by Clive Ward. www.clivewardauthor.com



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