Chapter 6

            I need to stand. Even though my legs are atrophied, it makes me uncomfortable having to lay in a bed all day. Perhaps it's the military mindset I've had drilled into me for so long, but I feel unsettled from being so vulnerable and useless. Worse, to have the sudden shock of ending up in this place and in this situation, all while my mind is still wandering around in Iraq, still waiting for the next outburst of gunfire at any moment. My muscles are withering away from going unused for so long, yet my body and mind are restless.

            Then, of course, there's the fact that my whole life supposedly isn't even real in the first place. I've seen some crazy sci-fi movies before, but I guess it's not quite as enjoyable when it's actually happening to you. I guess there's a slight chance this is all some elaborate joke cooked up by the other guys as a way to welcome me back to life after I nearly died. Would they really go this far for some ridiculous prank, though?

            I think back to the final scene I saw before I passed out in Iraq. Staff was down on the ground, bleeding. The truck he was trying to search had been tore up pretty badly. I know it's better to stay positive, but realistically I don't think any of them could've survived a blast like that. Then, there I was lying on the ground. I never saw how badly I was hurt, but I could tell it a lot more than just a flesh wound. I couldn't get my legs completely behind the cover of the truck before the mortar hit, so they probably took the worst of it. The fact that I even have legs to stand on right now...

            I think it's finally dawning on me now: there's no way I could've survived that, at least not in the shape that I'm in. No scars? No bandages? No casts? I may not be the brightest person, but logically I can see that there's no way I would be looking like this if... if it hadn't been a dream. Does that mean that the rest of my life was, too? I don't think I can just casually accept that every experience in my life for the last 21 years never happened. What kind of person could do that?

            I look back towards the bed. Two pieces of cloth lay spread out atop the sheets: one, the intricate patterns that had been presented to me by the nurse; the other, a jumble of various designs that I had sewn myself. They looked almost nothing alike, yet somehow I felt as if I had finished both with my own hands. The cloth I had embroidered just now wasn't horrendous, but it was nothing compared to the skill and craftsmanship of the other. Yet, as my hand mindlessly pushed the needle through the cloth, I felt an odd serenity unlike anything I could attempt to explain.

            I pick up the mysterious cloth and held it before me. It's mystifying how the thread decorating this simple piece of fabric captures my gaze, how it seems so familiar to me, as if it were my own child that has come to visit me again after many years. No words can describe this sensation that is causing my chest to tighten, joyous and yet in the same moment so sorrowfully nostalgic. Tears begin to form in my eyes as I remember my darling husband, whom I had loved so much for so long...

            The sound of the door latch causes my whole body to jerk, and I drop the cloth on the floor. The nurse is carrying a tray with some food, and I suddenly realize how hungry I am.

            "I thought you might want to try eating some real food, though it might be best if you eat only a little for now. Your body isn't going to be used to it quite yet," the nurse says, as he sets the tray down.

            "Right... thanks," is about all I can manage to answer in reply.

            I almost forgot what I was doing before he entered, but recollecting the emotional moment I had just now... where did all of that come from? I look down at the cloth that was covering my feet. Is there something so special about this cloth that it causes me to lose myself whenever I see it. I pick it up and lay it facing down on the bed.

...

            It's beginning to get dark. I've been standing for quite some time now, and while my legs are starting to shake with fatigue, I don't even want to go near the bed. Standing is difficult, but lying down makes me feel sick to my stomach. It's not that lying in bed is uncomfortable; rather, it's incredibly comfortable, so much so that it makes me want to fall asleep.

            That's just it, though: what's going to happen when I fall asleep again. Am I going to wake up tomorrow, or will I be starting a brand new life all over again? How long will it be before I manage to wake up? Will I remember who I am now when I do? I can't tell, and it's bothering me. I considered asking the nurse, but the thought of asking him for anything just pisses me off. I can't stand him for some reason.

            For now, all I can really do is continue to mull over all the things that have happened today to see if I can make any sense of it. I glance suspiciously at the cloth laying on my bed once more, then look away quickly, trying to ignore it.

...

            There's no clock in my room, so I don't have any idea what time it is, but it has to be really late. My legs gave out a while ago, unable to support the weight of my body any longer, so now I'm on my hands and knees, trying as hard as I can not to fall asleep. I'm afraid of the bed. There's no point in lying about it, I realize that now. The thought of lying back down and falling asleep just to live out another lifetime in a dream and repeat this process all over again has me scared beyond any logic or reasoning. I need to stay awake. I don't know how long I'll be able to last, but maybe if I can make it until morning it'll be easier to stay awake during the daytime.

            My body feels so tired, though. My arms are shaking just from trying to keep myself from falling to the floor. I'm reminded of when I first joined the military, the long, grueling days of getting worked over by the drill sergeants until I couldn't move anymore. This is nothing like that, though. This is something I'm doing to myself, because I'm terrified by the idea of falling asleep again.

            Sweat starts to form around my forehead, and it dampens the small bandage that's still wrapped around my head. Why is that even there in the first place? Does it have something to do with the accident that brought this me to this hospital? Either way, that doesn't concern me right now. I just need to focus on keeping my eyes open.

            Eventually, my muscles give out, and I collapse to the floor. The tile is cold, unlike the hot sand I found myself lying in the last time I lost consciousness. Neither are comfortable at all, yet it doesn't stop my vision from going dark, as I finally succumb to my exhaustion...

...

...

...

            I'm lying on my back. I open my eyes. I can't move very well. I try to call out to get someone's attention. I hear footsteps. I keep calling.

            A face appears in front of me. I recognize him. He looks like he's happy. He makes some sounds, but they don't make any sense. I try to reply, but it's difficult trying to keep up with the sounds. He makes the sounds more slowly.

            "Da..." I say, trying to repeat the sound, but my mouth won't move very well.

            He looks over and yells. Another face appears. I also recognize this face. She starts making sounds, too.

            I try to repeat the sounds, but all I manage is, "Mmm... ma..." She looks happy, though.

            She reaches out a hand toward me. I reach as well. I grab for it. My hand is small compared to hers, so I only manage to grab her finger. She picks me up and holds me to her chest. It's warm. I feel tired again. I close my eyes and fall asleep.

Reviews

[Kuro]

It's nicely written, but I kind of wish there was more to this chapter. Oh well,let's see what happens next.