Choosing My Life - Bear And Rachel

The night continued

Bear

I had three pots of water boiling on the stove, to provide clean drinking water for Rachel when she woke. When I was hunting the rabbits, I found a lemon tree with lemons on it, so brought some in to flavor the water. Hopefully these little nicities that were missing from Afghanistan would stave off the memories for me, and help her with her fever.

I lifted the lid on the rabbit and added some herbs. The smell wafted in the air and filled the room. I heard a small groan from Rachel as her body recognised food. She was so delicate, and fragile.

I thought about what she said about monsters taking her brothers. The association with gunshots. I had a bad feeling about this. I hoped I was wrong. This place was starting to feel more hellish than ever.

I sighed and pushed down my feelings. I couldn't think of any CBT exercises that I could do to bring me out of the edge of the memories. But I hoped that just being on the edge was the worst of it.

Actually, the things that had helped the most was when I was holding Rachel. When she had her face in my beard, it felt natural, warm. I took a deep breath. It felt like home. It made the bad memories disappear, and the good ones show up.

Memories of the children who used to come up after a while and play in front of me and my team. The teachers who would organise a school in a shelter somewhere and teach both boys and girls. The women who scurried away after dropping food packages near by. The Afghani interpreters trying to teach us some words and laughing at our bad pronunciations.

I found myself smiling at those memories. Those I wouldn't trade for the world, despite the other horrors. Sometimes the horrors made the beautiful moments that much sweeter.

I stirred the rabbit, then put the lid back on. I turned around to check on Rachel. She was awake, watching me. Her pale skin and the candle light making her large eyes seem bigger. I picked up one of the cups I found and ladled some warm OK lemon water into it.

"How are you feeling Miss Henderson?" I asked, offering her the cup. She accepted with a small smile.
"Better." She replied in a small voice, "Thankyou." She took a little sip. It looked like she was restraining herself from drinking the whole thing. I smiled and turned away.

"What's that smell?" I heard her small voice ask.
"The rabbit stew." I smiled, looking for bowls to dish up with.
"I haven't eaten in ages," she sighed. I froze.
"How long have you been without food?" I asked carefully.
She sighed, "I don't know... a week? A month? I've been drinking water, but I've no energy to do anything else, especially after digging all day."

This changed things. I wasn't sure her stomach would be able to tolerate a stew. I'd seen the effects of refeeding syndrome in some of the camps.

"Let's get something into you now then." I kept my tone light. I turned to the stew and used the ladle to scoop the liquid into the bowl I found.
"Um, Mr Bear? Can you... can you take this please? I'm feeling a little weak."

I turned to quickly take the cup from her before it dropped, and placed it on the table. She was visibly shaking. Now that I knew she hadn't been eating, I could see the signs of starvation.

I sat on the bed and slid my hand down her back to lift her to a sitting position.
"You need to eat something, try this. Just drink it like a soup." I lifted the bowl to her lips and tilted it so she could drink. she lifted her hands to grip the bowl, and took several swallows before dropping her head back. This is a free book available through Wattpad (c) LTM1986. If you are not reading this on Wattpad, it had been stolen. I let her sag back down into the bedding. Her active periods were starting to get very short. Either she was getting worse, or she was getting worse.

I put the bowl on the table and moved back to her. Her big eyes were following me, and she had a little smile on her face.
"Thankyou for looking after me. No one's looked after me for a long time." She said quietly. The candle light sparkled off the tears on her face. I was still sitting in her bed, so I smiled down and told her, " My pleasure."
She sighed and wiggled slightly.
"Can you hold me for a moment, please? I just want to know what heaven feels like before I die."
My heart grabbed my chest. She thought she was going to die. Her eyes had drifted close. I gritted my teeth at the little show of bravery. She thought she was going to die and was accepting it. I reached around and pulled the blankets around her body, then lent against the wall and pulled her into my lap. She gave a contented sigh as we settled into place.

I fought the tears that dripped into my beard. This was a lot more peaceful than the last person who died in my arms.

"I don't think you're going to die, sweet pea. I'm going to help you survive." I told her. The only response I got was a deep breath as she drifted into sleep. I settled in a bit more and closed my eyes.

I didn't sleep fully that night. I woke up to tend to the fire, move the various pots so the stew didn't burn, and the water didn't boil dry. But each time I returned to Rachel's bed, and coaxed her to drink more of the broth. Each time I pulled her into my lap and I held her while she slept safe in my arms, away from any monsters that were chasing both of us.