"Every step you take in your life will be viewed and judged by others. Every step you take on your path is laid out with either little pebbles or whole mountains to climb. To complete life you either have to take on these obstacles or you'll be left behind. But one thing is for sure - the society you live in doesn't care if you fall."
~ 15th September 2377 ~
It's already been two years and three months since the war with Aspor began. Ever since The Holy Kingdom was split into The Free Republic of Arpura and The Holy Kingdom of Aspor nearly 150 years ago, only a fragile peace treaty kept both countries from clawing at each other. Though the reasons for what led to a full-blown war after all those years of peace remained unknown to the public. There have always been small conflicts. Political in regards to the borders, unfulfilled trading relationships, and simple badmouthing TV shows.
But all this didn't matter anymore. In times of war, life as we know it became harder, slower and for most people unbearable.
Sure enough, people already had their own troubles in life, large and small. Everyone bore their own cross of bad thoughts and series of unfortunate events. Others struggled with the consequences of mistreatment and abuse. But in times of war... everything was put into perspective. Everything is reduced to what truly matters: Survive and the struggle to keep loved ones alive.
The frontline stretched along the border from the Argyre mountains through the trading city of Candrama to the foot of the Skysoothers. Within the last two years, none of the countries gained footage within the other country's land and the fighting pits have stalled.
Over the last few years, Ascura, a medium-sized city in the north, grew into a harbor of war refugees. The once peaceful and quiet city was now filled to the brim with terrified, wounded and hungry people. Once public halls and asylums were filled, people gathered and huddled together in makeshift camps along the sidewalks and dead ends across the whole city. Every day long lines built up in front of food and clothing stores, which were handing out whatever was donated by the inhabitants or the state. Though the import and export business slowed down and any form of help became sparse over time, everything became more and more expensive. Prices for any kind of supply rose weekly or even daily. That only lead to new established laws. Stating families first. First to keep or hire for jobs or apartments.
It became common to lose your job because of your family status. Hard to accept and even worse when it happens to you. Once that had happened, you'd fall from the soft cushion of being able to sustain all your needs, to fighting your way through packed streets full of those people you once pitied for having nothing. It's such a short fall to become part of "them". Though, what can one do, when your single life is weighed against the survival of a family that has already lost members. And who cares if you've lost your whole family, already.
Abandonment. Left alone. Ignored and left to die on the streets. That's what Carol experienced as she wandered through Ascura's streets. Stepping into every store in her path and begging for any kind of job to earn her living. However, she was greeted with the same sullen faces and empty eyes, denying her the life-saving opportunity. Carol's thoughts were turning in circles. She'd be losing her apartment soon, as her savings were nearly used up and families were already waiting for her to clear out.
I could just join the military... She felt her stomach churn at the thought.
I'm a trained nurse... they need me.
It's been a year and seven months since her father was shot early in the beginning of the war and her brother Aaron came back wounded. A mere two months and few days later Aaron took his own life. He told her what he saw. What he had experienced, what he was forced to do. It was too much for him. Tears welled up in Carol's eyes.
"How am I to survive?" she kept asking herself with every heavy step she took.
"I should probably just join the military forces," she muttered while crossing her arms protectively over the stabbing pain in her stomach. The fear of losing her own life was constantly growing.
No one would care if she'd die. No one would miss her.
"I should just join them. What do I have to lose?" Sweat broke out, images of her brother laying on the stretcher covered by a blood-stained blanket came unsolicited to her mind.
"No... not now." She pinched the bridge of her nose and quickly shook the images out of her head before she'd have a breakdown in the middle of the street.
Paying no attention to her surroundings, she followed the flow of the people walking in the same direction, blind to the similar looks of empty and hollow eyes. Keeping with the crowd's pace, walking and stopping as they do, Carol just didn't care for where she was going. Every day the same scenery and every day there were more people on the streets. Begging and hoping for a better day to come and every day the same answers to her pleas.
Stopping at a crosswalk her internal thoughts were blinding. Pearls of sweat ran down her spine and an unpleasant coldness lingered on her skin.
"I'm such a coward!" she burst out loud, ripping passersby out of their thoughts making them gaze quizzically at her.
"One more person turned mad by the war," they probably thought and turned back to their own troubles. When they started crossing the street Carol took a deep breath, closed her eyes and followed the others. With her lowered gaze on the pavement, she already imagined signing the contract... imagined being transferred to a lazaret at the frontline... seeing...
"Look out!"
"Oh no!"
In an instant, the world rushed back into focus. Her vision fixated on the people running either to the other side of the street or back to where they came from.
The screeching of wheels and screams along with the oncoming headlights made Carol take a few steps back. As the luxurious blue car hit her knees and thighs, it pitched her forward onto the hood. At that moment, her eyes met with a pair of shocked and pain-twisted blue eyes. The woman inside the car was panting and clutching her chest. Another set of emotionless, blue eyes caught her attention as Carol slid off the car's hood. Rolling onto the asphalt, the world turned black and soundless as her head hit the pavement.
Maybe... all will be over now... Her breath slowed, putting a smile on her face as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Time passed slowly. Occasionally, slipping out of unconsciousness, she could hear distant voices. Worried voices, instructing voices, calls for assistance and the feel of hands touching her.
"Matt, how bad is it?" Emily asked when she saw Dr. Brighton standing beside her best friend. The doctor startled and pulled his hand back from holding Carol's hand. He turned around and greeted his coworker, a blush crept over his cheeks. If the situation weren't so dire, she'd have laughed heartily.
"Hey, Emily..." Matthew said, flustered. He scratched the back of his neck to cover his shaking hands and lowered his gaze to avoid showing off his worries.
"There are several large hematomas on her legs and abdomen and she hit her head pretty hard. Carol will be feeling sick for a while," he stated avoiding to look directly at Carol. "But thank goodness, she mostly only got some scratches." He heaved a tremendous sigh of relief.
"Sounds like she'll recover just fine." Emily tried to reassure him, knowing how deeply he cared for her.
Matthew looked up. "Can you keep a close eye on her?" He fumbled with his pen and lowered his gaze again. "You know she wouldn't like to see me."
Yes, I know. Emily looked down at her own shoes then at Carol. "Of course I will," she responded.
With a sigh, Matthew shot one last glance at Carol and left the room, letting Emily take care of their mutual friend. She sat beside her and took her hand.
"Oh Carol... please wake up."
YOU ARE READING
Waking Up
General Fiction"As war tears her country apart, one young woman struggles to find her place in life." I'm a slow writer/updater with a busy life. English is not my native tongue, but I do my best and also have a lovely proofreader checking my writing :). I'm alway...
