Friday, May 31, 2013

47. Help.

She stirred. She felt confined. Even in the supposed comfort of her own room, she felt as if she were being strangled. Practically unable to breathe. Beads of cool sweat situated on her off-coloured forehead, forming together and slowly rolling the line of her temple before dropping to the pillow case. Her eyes were still closed, but her eyelids fluttered from a dream-like state.

The sun was blistering. Dust swirling from the ground with every fast paced footstep. She was running, breathing hot air in and out of her burning lungs. She pushed past the tent opening, slinging her supplies off to a corner and fumbling through for her stethoscope. It was gone. Wait... No, it never existed. Not here. Not yet.

"You're here!" Someone called. She swore she recognised that voice, "We need you on bed four. Now!"

She shook off the feeling that she'd done something wrong, hauling herself to her feet and finding the bed in question. The soldier's face was practically torn to pieces; she denoted that the lacerations were from distorted shrapnel in a second. He was unrecognisable now, but he hooked his fingers around her arm and dragged her down. She wrestled her arm away and tore into the army drags that covered his chest to reveal severe swelling and bruising all across the surface area. But it must have been a heart-related issue. That's why they specifically called her. But she quickly noticed the familiar faded tattoo situated right underneath his collarbones. They worked shifts together. They were squad-mates. They were friends. They- "Help! I said HELP! IT'S-"

She awoke with a jolt, gasping for a decent breath. Her throat felt raw. She'd been... Screaming?

She ran her hands along her skin, searching for beat of her pulse with heightened desperation. The dreams were more and more real; to know her heart was beating was to confirm that she still existed.
Word Count: 318

No comments:

Post a Comment