The Veteran Left Behind - ON HOLD

Chapter 2

Ben parked outside of the large brick building. He hated going into this hell hole but he needed to get the prescriptions filled. He limped out of his truck and walked up the concrete path to the double doors. Older veterans scattered the clinic in wheelchairs, cains, and walkers. He limped past the other veterans and over to the elevators centered in the entrance. The elevator made a loud noise as it came down and made Ben jump slightly when it clattered to his level. People flooded out of the small enclosure and he proceeded to limp in the empty room. His leg twitched in pain as the elevator jumped to a start and moved slowly up the building. When the door opened, a group of people were waiting on the other side. He carefully maneuvered around the chaos. An employee still managed to brush past him in a hurry. He growled in reaction but kept his composure. He was here for one reason and the faster it was completed, the sooner he could get out.

Ben walked up to the room designated for pharmacy and grabbed a number. The room was packed, like usual. He walked over to a corner and stood on his good leg as he waited. The veterans in the room were all older except for the amputee who sat to his right. Ben watched silently as he adjusted his prosthetic with a disgruntled look on his face. He knew what that expression meant. He was in pain. He remembered it all too well at Walter Reed. Ben tore his eyes away from the plastic apparatus and looked down at his leg. The scars were visible underneath where his dark shorts cut off. They looked angry with red and white strips of flesh. The pink undertones in the dips of the scarring screamed with rage.

"Nice tattoo."

Ben snapped out of his thoughts and looked next to him at the amputee. He was looking at the soldier's cross on his forearm.

"Thanks."

"It's really detailed. Where did you get it done?"

"I think I have the guy's card in my wallet," responded Ben as he fished in his back pocket.

He pulled out the card and handed it to him noticing the scaring on the other man's arm. Probably from the blast that took his leg.

"Thanks man. I've been looking for someone good for awhile now."

"No problem. It took me quite a long time to find someone I trusted to ink this. How long have you been waiting in here?"

"Half an hour. Typical for the VA to take forever though. I'm sure you have experienced that."

Ben nodded in agreement. He noticed the veteran was glancing at his black and silver bracelet on his wrist. It was his KIA bracelet.

"Fallujah," Ben replied simply.

"Mine was Baghdad," he responded motioning to his half missing limb with the wrist that also displayed a KIA bracelet.

"A259 in window number two," said a monotone female voice over the intercom as the LED lights on the wall flickered the numbers.

"Well that's me. Nice talking to you. I'm sure we will cross paths again."

He stood up, steadying himself on the metal and plastic of one leg, then proceeded to walk towards the counter. Ben looked down at his tattoo as he walked away. He felt anxious suddenly. The black and grey M4 positioned upright on a pair of boots with a Kevlar sitting on top of the muzzle gleamed under the florescent lights. Images of dirt beneath his boots appeared and the sound of helicopters echoed in his ears.