July 2019
My nose wrinkles at the acrid smells. It's way too pungent that it's making my head spin. My shoes sound too loud in the long hallways and they look too colorful against the sterile white floors. I try to catch a glimpse into the rooms, even though I know I haven't reached my destination yet, but the rooms are all dark and daunting.
Room 750, 3rd floor.
I clutch the dog-tag that has been hanging around my neck for the past twenty-six hours and keep up the mantra in my head.
Room 800, 3rd floor.
The rest of me is numb.
I start to walk slower as the bold numbers next to each room starts to get closer and closer to 800.
755
756
757
758
759
.
.
.
I don't realize that I've stopped breathing until a nurse walks by and asks if I'm okay. Nodding and swallowing thickly, I thank her and crack open the door a little.
Room 800
Beep beep.
Room 800
Beep beep
I step slowly into the room, the beeping monitors are loud and obnoxious. The curtain is closed, another barrier I'll have to get through to get to him.
I laugh coldly at my melodramatic behavior.
Room 800
Beep beep
Slowly, I push aside the curtains and I'm met with the most horrific sight of my life.
It's a shell of the man I once knew. The sometimes shy, kind, brave, yet recluse man I loved.
His cheeks were hallow and thin, his face pale and void of any of his dimples. His usually short hair hangs delicately on his forehead in a way that is too perfect compared to the rest of him, his torso sits in a brace of some sort and I wonder if he was shot in that area. The idea of it makes my eyes tear. Like his face, his body shows no signs of life. If I didn't hear the beep of the machines, I would've thought that he was...
Room 800
Beep beep
Room 800
Beeeeep
.
.
.
Beep
.
.
.
.
"Heath?" my eyes widen at the silent monitors.
"Heath!" I choke and grab his hand just as doctors and nurses rush into the room.
They have shock pads.
The nurse give the doctor all clear.
He hovers the pads just above his chest.
.
.
"Heath!" I cry, and suddenly I'm on my back, lying on the floor next to my bed.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To My Soldier
RomanceI raced down the steps on my front porch, my feet slipping and sliding in my haste. I was just so excited at the possibility that I received a reply. That is, until a month ago. °°° It's almost been a week since Heath disappeared. °°° "Sometimes, I...
