FRAGMENTS ; Simon Riley

Chapter 1.

ROSALIE.

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« May flowers grow in the
saddest parts of you. »

THE office was oddly dark, a cold sensation hanging around the small and messy place I slept uncomfortably in, or at least tried to. It has been exactly forty-six hours since I last closed an eye, with all the emergencies and lack of staff I was left to deal with many injured soldiers alone with Gwen and a few other nurses.

To the point where my brain had stopped functioning properly and my body needed absolute rest; yet I couldn't leave my position for even a second. Dashing here and there, stitching up open wounds, taking out bullets, dealing with amputations, needles and IVs.

Gwen had forced me to leave and take some hours to sleep while she covered my shift, and I felt so grateful. But the guilt was eating me up too much and I was now stuck in the dark room, zoning out.

I kept rubbing anxiously my hands over my blood stained cargos, my lower lip getting tortured by my teeth. Get a hold of yourself, Rosalie. Many times I've been told to stop pushing myself over the limits, I worked day and night without even realizing, since the day I've been assigned to the medical field.

It was my dream job, and finally, I reached the goal, shedding countless tears and sweat to earn it. I was praised so many times by the higher ups for my amazing dedication and performances, they had promised me a promotion or even a better position, and I couldn't wait for the day to finally come.

With a tired sigh, I closed my eyes for a brief moment, my hand instinctively opening the second drawer of the desk and taking out a bottle of painkillers.

My head has been aching nonstop for the whole day, it was another wave of my usual migraines, which I was long used to. Not caused by stress or tiredness, the medic had prescribed me a few pills to deal with them and my frequent hallucinations. Funny to think of a medic prescribing medications to another medic.

I placed a pill over my tongue, before I gulped it down with some fresh water that tasted like heaven after hours of never stopping. The silence was sickening — no pained groans or cries, no soldiers' protests. Just a comfortable silence and the ticking of the clock.

Some sun rays peeked from the blinds of the windows, signaling it was already early in the morning and my rest had come to an end, it was time to go back to where I belonged.

I ran my hands slowly through my disheveled hair, gathering them in a low bun and securing it with two ties. Standing up, I took a few deep breaths to calm down my racing heart and dizzy head, soon the painkillers were going to kick in and I was freshly good to go. Get a hold of yourself, I repeated mentally.

I pushed the door open and walked down the quiet hallways of the other wing of the hospital, hands stuck into the pockets of my uniform as I greeted a couple of passing nurses, getting back to their dorms for a break.

"Sergeant Nova, room no. 197, the soldier needs stitches. Could you do it for me?" Another co-worker stopped me in the middle of the hallway, tiredness written all over his face. Dark circles decorated his blue eyes, before everything had started, they usually held a beautiful spark in them.

I spent countless weeks in that hospital and I tied with a couple of nurses there, such as Gwen and James. I wasn't that talkative, I always stayed in my own bubble and focused on my job. And when I met them, I discovered that we had mang things in common that eased the blossom of our friendship.