Monster

There was so much screaming. Everything had gone entirely wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be there. They said it would be safe and easy. The armor and artillery was just a precaution. We wouldn’t need it. But there was so much gunfire and so much screaming.

“Medic! Medic!” someone was shouting from the other side of the building.

My heart was pounding in my chest and my hands were shaking. I didn’t want to go over there. Not where the bullets were flying and all those people were screaming. But I heard the voice get more frantic. We came for the children and I had to do it for them. It was the whole reason I trained for the job. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t get up.

So I took a deep breath, held my gun against my chest and jumped to my feet.

I ran around the corner to where one of my comrades stood over a bleeding child. She was the one who was screaming, and she couldn’t have been more than ten. I could already tell just by the amount of blood that I wouldn’t be able to help her.

“I’m here! I’m here!” I shouted as I returned my gun to the strap on my shoulder and traded it for my medi-pack. I pressed my fingers against the ripped cloth he’d pressed against her stomach. He released her and jumped up to join the fighting. The girl looked up at me with tears in her eyes. I knew she probably couldn’t understand me and I couldn’t understand her. But I wanted to comfort her, even if I couldn’t save her life.

“You’re okay, sweetie. You’re going to be okay,” I reassured her as I pulled the fabric away from the wound to assess the damage.

But it was in such a vital spot and the blood wouldn’t stop. Even if I could stop it she was still going to die. There was too much damage to her internal organs. There was no exit wound. I bit my lip to stop the rush of emotion that wanted to burst out of me. I looked up to give her a forced smile.

“Don’t be afraid,” I said. I heard some shouting across the street where most of the fighting was taking place. For a moment the gunfire stopped and then I heard the one word I didn’t want to hear.

“Grenade!”

The explosion rocked the building. One moment I was looking into that little girl’s eyes and the next thing I knew I was yards away, lying on a pile of debris on my stomach. I could feel the burns against my ear and my face. I could hear the ringing in my ears that drowned out all noise aside from the beating of my heart. I struggled to get back to my feet and looked around to see what had happened to the little girl.

She was lying several feet away from me under a blanket of plaster and brick. Her eyes were still wet with tears but stared unblinking in my direction.

“Jo. Jo!” a voice said through the ringing, and I felt hands on my shoulders. I gasped and wrapped my hands around his thick arms.

“Steve,” I replied when my surroundings finally began to make sense. I was at home in my dark room with the tree shaded walls. Steve was in my bed, shaking me out of my nightmares.

“Are you okay?” he asked, as a fellow soldier, not the lover he was pretending to be. My heart was pounding and in the silence I could hear my own breathing. I was shaking and my body was damp with sweat. I nodded anyway.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “I’ll be fine.” But then his eyebrows creased in the darkness as he looked at me more thoroughly than most people did. It was the way fellow soldiers looked at me on the outside. As an equal, a comrade, someone who understood. Not a patient or a sister or a daughter.

“You don’t really believe that,” he said flatly. I released his arms and tried to relax onto my mattress. I rubbed my forehead as he leaned against his elbows and rested his hand under his head to balance himself on the small iron-framed bed.

“No,” I admitted. “I don’t believe that.” Then I rolled over to face away from him. I felt him shift and then his arm wrapped around my body, heavy and warm. “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered. “No one is going to see.”

“I know,” he replied.

I didn’t say anything, but I kept my eyes on the window where shadows danced along the glass. A pale green light was causing the shadows to stand out more than usual. That meant my neighbor’s porch light was on. It was a motion sensor light. They didn’t have any pets. I figured it was Rocket, my raccoon friend. I closed my eyes and sighed. Steve’s body was warm against me and I felt my heart begin to relax. This wasn’t part of the deal but I appreciated it anyway.

“Goodnight, Steve,” I said.

“Goodnight, Jo,” he replied.

Notes