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Time Heals Most Wounds
“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 always be present in my memories, and well, some wounds just never heal, even with time.
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 always be present in my memories, and well, some wounds just never heal, even with time.
I appreciate the fast pacing in the action shown through some of the narration, as touched on below. I'm a sucker for 3rd person limited and I think you did a good job with that. However, the subject matter feels cliched, like I've seen it before, and this story didn't do much particularly interesting with the concept.
On to technical things. Off the bat, I'm a little biased against prompt drops, because in my mind, it lacks an element of creativity. So for me, -1/4 point for the prompt as the title, and -1/8 point for very nearly dropping the prompt at the end. I think the prompt was implied here pretty well without the blatant drops.
I see comma splices, but I'm more forgiving of it when it's in first person POV. Some add to the story and show the fast pacing of the events happening [My breaths were heavy and labored, my legs felt like jelly, another building exploded in artillery fire.] and some don't [The crawl was agony, physical and emotional pain threatened to overwhelm me, somehow I kept crawling forward.] (and the reason is that if you want to show something is agonizing or slow, then a comma splice won't help because that would speed up the reading of that sentence. I'd replace the "me," with "me.", and maybe even "agony," with "agony." too).
There's also an issue of show vs. tell, where I'd argue some phrases are too tell-y, like [My mind was filled with shock and numbness] and [physical and emotional pain threatened to overwhelm me]. If the point was for me to more vividly feel the emotions he's feeling, then it doesn't help if you're telling me those feelings straight-up instead of showing me those feelings. It'd be more intimate and immediate, and better show the raw, fast-paced emotion the narrator is going through. Even something little, like instead of [telling myself they were still alive despite knowing they were all dead], you could have [They're still alive, I thought, lying to myself], which isn't a great example but eliminates that unnecessary and distancing phrase "telling myself".
So overall, a good try, but it didn't quite hit the mark for me.
On to technical things. Off the bat, I'm a little biased against prompt drops, because in my mind, it lacks an element of creativity. So for me, -1/4 point for the prompt as the title, and -1/8 point for very nearly dropping the prompt at the end. I think the prompt was implied here pretty well without the blatant drops.
I see comma splices, but I'm more forgiving of it when it's in first person POV. Some add to the story and show the fast pacing of the events happening [My breaths were heavy and labored, my legs felt like jelly, another building exploded in artillery fire.] and some don't [The crawl was agony, physical and emotional pain threatened to overwhelm me, somehow I kept crawling forward.] (and the reason is that if you want to show something is agonizing or slow, then a comma splice won't help because that would speed up the reading of that sentence. I'd replace the "me," with "me.", and maybe even "agony," with "agony." too).
There's also an issue of show vs. tell, where I'd argue some phrases are too tell-y, like [My mind was filled with shock and numbness] and [physical and emotional pain threatened to overwhelm me]. If the point was for me to more vividly feel the emotions he's feeling, then it doesn't help if you're telling me those feelings straight-up instead of showing me those feelings. It'd be more intimate and immediate, and better show the raw, fast-paced emotion the narrator is going through. Even something little, like instead of [telling myself they were still alive despite knowing they were all dead], you could have [They're still alive, I thought, lying to myself], which isn't a great example but eliminates that unnecessary and distancing phrase "telling myself".
So overall, a good try, but it didn't quite hit the mark for me.
Time Heals Most Wounds - B — One of the problems with writing combat scenes… well, two of them, is the tendency for an author to try to include *everything* in the text, which slows down the action to a slog, and also to draw back in third-person mode because of it, which puts the reader further away from the action. This story is a good example of the problem. Try rewriting it with a few moments of peace before the first artillery shell came slamming in so you can set the scene before you start blowing it to pieces.
Comma splices – My breaths were heavy and labored, my legs felt like jelly, another building exploded in artillery fire. There's no causal relation between the clause ending at ‘jelly’ and the one starting at ‘another’. Therefore, that's not a comma you need here, but a full stop.
I dimly registered a chunk of pavement fly towards my leg, bone breaking on impact. Very unlikely. Comma splice again.
Many repetitions of words. Try to vary your lexical choices, otherwise reading feels a bit bland.
Oh, the nightmare trick.
And no, if your leg gives out at the first step, it won't hold at the next one. So that's highly improbable too.
And the end, well, is rather dull.
Not really impressed by this one.
I dimly registered a chunk of pavement fly towards my leg, bone breaking on impact. Very unlikely. Comma splice again.
Many repetitions of words. Try to vary your lexical choices, otherwise reading feels a bit bland.
Oh, the nightmare trick.
And no, if your leg gives out at the first step, it won't hold at the next one. So that's highly improbable too.
And the end, well, is rather dull.
Not really impressed by this one.
Another war story. There seem to be quite a few of those this round.
This story is just pretty standard, doing the whole "time heals physical but not emotional wounds" thing. It's functional, but not anything special or particularly interesting.
I do think that the first scene was pretty good, but the second needs some work. I think it seemed to be maintaining the pace of the first scene, when it really should have slowed down instead.
So that you could have died with them?
This story is just pretty standard, doing the whole "time heals physical but not emotional wounds" thing. It's functional, but not anything special or particularly interesting.
I do think that the first scene was pretty good, but the second needs some work. I think it seemed to be maintaining the pace of the first scene, when it really should have slowed down instead.
if only I had been faster.
So that you could have died with them?
*skipping other reviews*
I don't know. The opening combat scenes just felt kind of.. Meh to me. Too much tell and not enough show perhaps? We're told about the emotions our protagonist is feeling, but we don't really see them. I'm afraid I can't be more specific than that... It just didn't quite resonate with me.
At the end, I expected him to be missing a leg, and making do with a prosthetic. Instead it seems that his injured leg will eventually recover. His survivor guilt on the other hand... He's not complaining that his friend's died... He's complaining that he lived. Which makes the second to last line make a little sense. If he'd "Been faster" he'd just have died with his cohorts. Wishing that they'd been a bit faster.. Or a bit slower would have made a bit more sense...
I don't know. The opening combat scenes just felt kind of.. Meh to me. Too much tell and not enough show perhaps? We're told about the emotions our protagonist is feeling, but we don't really see them. I'm afraid I can't be more specific than that... It just didn't quite resonate with me.
At the end, I expected him to be missing a leg, and making do with a prosthetic. Instead it seems that his injured leg will eventually recover. His survivor guilt on the other hand... He's not complaining that his friend's died... He's complaining that he lived. Which makes the second to last line make a little sense. If he'd "Been faster" he'd just have died with his cohorts. Wishing that they'd been a bit faster.. Or a bit slower would have made a bit more sense...
The dream bit was very repetitive. That may have been intentional, as dreams themselves sometimes do that. However, it made for kind of dull reading, as nothing new was happening. "Boom, run, my leg hurts, boom, run, my leg hurts." Overall, I fear this story doesn't do anything unique, and simply sets up the basic premise of survivor's remorse, which we've seen in a hundred different stories, tv shows, and movies.