“Lance! Get your ass moving! Artillery is closing in, we need to get the hell out of this death trap!” Artillery fire fell like rain on our position, and I was falling behind as our squad was running. In the firefight two hours ago my leg was hit, and we held position until they pulled out and starting using their big guns. 

A shell took the building two blocks to our right, shrapnel was launched into the air and a plume of dust and smoke rose. More shells rained down, my leg burned, and we were running for our lives. 

Each step sent a bolt of pain arcing up my leg, yet between the adrenaline and the artillery to our backs I managed to keep moving. My breaths were heavy and labored, my legs felt like jelly, another building exploded in artillery fire. Run, explosion, run, explosion, this was hell - death flying down on your position to the beat of a war drum. 

It was going so well, all things considered, until some lucky bastard got in a lucky shot. Earth and pavement ruptured upward twenty feet ahead of me, centered on the rest of my squad. Oh god, they’re hit. I dimly registered a chunk of pavement fly towards my leg, bone breaking on impact.

I fell to the ground, unable to hold my weight. My mind was filled with shock and numbness as I crawled over to my friends, telling myself they were still alive despite knowing they were all dead. The crawl was agony, physical and emotional pain threatened to overwhelm me, somehow I kept crawling forward. 

I reached Jim first, chunks of shrapnel had ripped his chest and he was barely breathing. His legs were twisted back in angles I couldn’t comprehend, I cupped his head in my hand, and I was dimly aware of tears streaming down my face.

“Oh god this wasn’t supposed to happen, Jim... Fuck... Don’t die on me...” His eyes were half closed, and his breathing slowed.

“Lance, always remember... you need to wake up” He said in a whisper. 

I could find no words, my best friend was dying in my arms, what could I say?

“You need to wake up... Lance, you need to wake up!”



My eyes were met with a bright light and I recoiled from its intensity. I was dimly aware of someone gripping my arms, and a dull pain on my shoulder. My eyes adjusted to the light, and I was met with the sight of a nurse. 

“Lance are you okay? You were having a nightmare and wouldn’t stop thrashing...” Her eyes were filled with concern and she released her grip on me.

“Yeah... yeah I’m fine...” 

“Like hell you are, you ripped out your IV and messed up your shoulder.” I glanced over to see four red lines on my shoulder then looked to the blood under my fingertips. 

“I’ll be fine... I-I was just...”

“I understand... I’m here to bring you to today's rehab, the doc thinks we can get you to walk again today.” 

“T-That would be nice” She helped me off the hospital bed and into a wheelchair, and soon we set off for a new room. Entering the white walled area, I noticed a few other injured soldiers trying to regain movement in various limbs. I was wheeled over to a set of bars to assist my walking, and the nurse helped me stand.

I gripped the bars and focused my mind. I took one step with my good leg, it held. I slowly moved the other, the useless mass of pain and numbness. It was hard, it was slow, but I finally managed to take the step. It didn’t hold my weight. I tripped but caught myself on the bars, and slowly regained my balance. 

Jim and the others wouldn’t want for me to be weak like this. Gritting my teeth I took the step, this time it held my weight. I took another step, and another. It wasn’t fair... Why did I have to live but they die? 

The docs all said the same thing, with time and patience I would walk again. They said I would heal. Well they were wrong... I will never be able to forget Jim and the others, I will never be able to forget their deaths... if only I had been faster. They will [i]always[/i] be present in my memories, and well, some wounds just never heal, even with time.