Practicing Medicine // Complete

Chapter Twenty Nine: The Rainbow

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The muzzle flashed; The bolt slammed back, and stayed back. The soldier stopped in his tracks.

"Did you just-"

"Yes."

Immediately, all of the anger washed away, and everything was quiet. The world didn't seem so much like it was screaming at me. The static was gone, and the blood wasn't quite so red. Hands shaking, I dropped the weapon; It felt like a piece of a crime, and I didn't want nothing to do with it no more. The soldier looked up into the sky.

"I've never seen one like that before," he murmured, eyes fixed on something far beyond me. I twisted my neck to look over my shoulder. There was a faint red rainbow out there, standing against the dormant rainclouds. The clouds were red too, but not near as red as that prismatic arc.

"Me neither." We both watched the rainbow for a while. The sunlight burned hot on my cheek, as a million emotions- shame, anger, denial and all the works- flooded through my chest. I heard the soldier sniffle something down. "It... it sounded like it shot. Why didn't it shoot?"

"Must have been bad ammo, sir. There's a whole cartridge caught in the port, bullet and all." The soldier tried to wipe the blood from his mouth, but only succeeded in smearing it more. "Not like I was planning to shoot you anyways..."

"Why not?" He pinched his nose.

"I'm no murderer." I looked away from the rainbow to glare at him.

"You shot Savanna!"

"And you think I don't regret it? I'm sixteen years old, I never even shot at anything before that!"

I huffed and looked the other way. I wasn't gonna talk to him again, but then he pulled up his sleeve, and I saw that something was wrong with his arm; There must have been half a dozen dotted lines running down his forearm, and the skin was red and swollen.

"I'm sorry, sir. Really, I'm sorry about that girl I shot. Everything is just so mixed up, I don't even know what's me, and what's the Psycho anymore! You know?"

I kept on staring at his arm, unconsciously moving to cover up my own. Both were scarred with our mistakes, only I was ready to put mine in the past. He was still screwing up- still hurting people, still hurting himself. Wasn't much hope for his future either. Being hooked on combat stimulants ain't something that you can kick all on your lonesome...

I sighed to myself, and set my eyes on the soldier again.

"Let me see your face," I said. He glanced up at me and our eyes met. I'd never seen eyes like that before- Young eyes with bags under them like an old man's, bright as a couple of little moons, wide and grey and shimmering with fear. His pupils were the size of pennies.

"Why?" he asked me. I shrugged.

"You need help."

I wanted to hate him. I couldn't really forgive him, after what he had done. But I couldn't stay angry neither, couldn't keep the fire up, not after pulling that trigger. I had decided to kill him, and the shame and relief I was feeling now told me that I didn't really want that after all. So what was the point of being angry?