The war raged on.
Explosions pierced through the air, gunfire ripped through skin and muddy ground soaked up blood.
Still, Havers felt blind to it all. The ringing in his ears almost louder than the landmines. The pain, like a hot knife, like fire spreading through his veins, overtook his senses. In the back of his mind, Havers registered that he should try and stand, to get to a field hospital. He knew he’d be left, another body out in no-mans land. Another name, another grave. But he couldn't. Any energy seeped out of him along with his blood, both making a pool around him.
Havers regretted many things. He regretted all the arguments with his mother, he regretted all the teasing with his friends, he regretted never owning a house, or starting a garden, or buying a new car. Most of all, however, Havers regretted leaving the Captain. His Captain. Havers thought he should be allowed to call him that still, especially in this dire situation.
Havers regretted making the choice to leave the relative safety of Button House and the overwhelming calm he felt with his Captain. He said he left to fight, while he still could. He didn't mention the fact that he wasn't as subtle as he liked when it came to expressing his affections for his Captain. That the officers started to catch on, rumours started to spread and he was sure it was only a matter of time until a report was made.
Havers hated everything. He hated his country, the country he was currently giving his fast dwindling life to fight for. The country that would sooner put him in jail for his desires rather than let him love someone. He hated his emotions, always so open and easily read. Easily read by anyone but his rather dense Captain. He hated his Captain, with his awkward smiles and crinkly crows feet and eyes that reflected the sunlight in just the right way. He hated his quiet chuckles and his startled laughs and how he bounced on his feet when excited. He hated how very much in love he was. He hated how neither knew their love was requited. His Captain still didn't. Havers hated himself, for leaving. For forcing that sombre smile onto his Captain’s face as they waved goodbye.
But none of that particularly mattered now. The pain dulled and the static filling his head melted away. Havers found he’d closed his eyes and slowly peeled them open. He bit his tongue as he was faced with the ground, the pathetic patches of grass stained red with his blood, his sleeve in front of him, usually green, was now a very dark red, hand splattered with a similar colour. Havers registered the bodies in front of him, piles of cadavers, pools of blood and a pounding headache from the pure stench of rotting carcasses.
Then one stood up. His body lay still on the ground but he stood up. Another pushed themselves up to sit, staring with wide eyes as they left their body behind. Havers tried similarly, pushing himself to his feet and looking down at his body. Pale and clammy and covered in blood.
All around him, soldiers started to get up, come face to face with their own dead body and look wildly around. This was the afterlife.
—
Havers lost track of time. The days passed by like sand falling through his fingers.
The war was over, he knew that. Civilians had returned and made the trenches into a graveyard, planting flowers amongst the stones.
He’s seen day and night and day and night. Sunrise after sunrise. Sunset after sunset. He’s seen rain and snow and sun and fog. He’s seen the grass grow back and trees reach up to the sky.
He’s seen his friends, his fellow ghosts, move on, a bright light shine around them before they floated up. To heaven perhaps. Although Havers doubted the existence of a God after this purgatory.
Havers couldn't leave. He never tried but he saw. An invisible border surrounded them, any that tried to cross it were turned around and sent back to their place. Havers didn't want to try. He didn't want to get his hopes up, to toy with the brief fantasy that he could leave
He remembered, soon after the war ended, Havers and the other ghosts, now overwhelmingly made up of soldiers, asked each other where they would leave to. Where they would like to spend eternity, if they could choose. Havers pretended to ponder, but he knew. Havers would like to return to his Captain. Havers would like to feel his arms around him, see that awkward smile, hear the startled laughs, know that he loved and was loved back.
Havers would like nothing better than to get another chance.
808 words
