Time's Lost Soldier

Prologue

August 27, 1776 – Battle of Long Island, New York

The only sound he can hear is this ringing. It's not the ringing of a church's bell on Sunday morning, but the constant ringing that gets on one's nerves. And the worse thing is that only he can hear the ringing. The ringing that comes from being face to face with Death. The ringing that comes from being thrown to the ground by a blast of a cannon.

Cian shakes his head, hoping that the ringing will disappear enough so he can hear the commands of his general. He slowly begins to rise to his knees from where his body was splayed by the tree line. Cian hopes that he can at least catch sight of the flashing red colour of the British Army far enough away from him, but the only thing he can see is the bodies of his fallen army mates. He twists his head just enough to catch sight of a glinting bayonet in the sunlight before he finally hears the first noise over the ringing in his ears. A bang resounds throughout his head as Cian feels the deafening pain of a gunshot wound to the chest, right where his heart is. The force of the bullet entering into his body knocks him back into a tree like a limp doll that his little sisters used to play with everyday.

His head hangs limply to the side, as he gazes up towards the blue sky, the ringing never leaving his ears. He feels empty, almost as if he is floating in space. He feels unbelievably cold, but why? Wasn't it a hot day outside? Just a moment ago, Cian had felt sweat drip down the back of his neck. He suddenly lets out a loud cough, feeling a liquid dribble down the side of his mouth as his breathing begins to get labored. He feels as if he is chocking on all the air coming into his lungs. By now, he can't feel his feet nor his hands. He reaches up to his face, wiping the liquid away from his mouth. Removing his hand, he glances down only to find his hand stained a scarlet. The scarlet is not one from the cherries he would eat all summer long, but from his own blood. Cian can't feel anything and can't see anything, only the colours black and red.

Is this what Death feels like? Cian wonders as all of his senses slowly float away from him. A black abyss encloses his entire vision as he slowly fades from the world, still listening to the constant ringing in his ears.

~

Cian shoots up from his cot, breathing heavily and feeling as if his heart is beating out of his chest. He frantically pats his chest and head, feeling for any type of wound, bullet hole or blood trickling out of his body.

Was that just a dream? But it felt too real to be just a dream? Cian wonders as his breathing begins to slow and he hears the trumpet call of wake up.

"Girls, get your asses up. I can taste victory on the horizon and those goddamn red coats will get what's coming to 'em soon." Cian hears his general's commanding voice echoe throughout their small camp. A feeling of déjà vu washes over him as he remembers those exact same words in his dream last night. He shakes his head, trying to knock the feeling of fear slowly creeping over him. Getting up off of his cot, Cian begins to quickly get dressed, throwing on his uniform and hopping around his tent, trying to shove his shoes on as quickly as possible. Rushing out of his tent, he hurriedly rushes to get some food before the day begins.

Eventually the day progresses till Cian once again finds himself on the same battlefield as his dream. Glancing around he recognizes everything from his dream. Suddenly, he's thrown into the air from a cannon blast and hears the ringing again. The same exact constant ringing in his ears that plagued him the night before.

Cian shakes his head, hoping that the ringing will disappear enough for him to understand what's going on. He rises to his knees from where his body was splayed by the tree line. He hopes that this is some sort of nightmare, that his dream isn't coming true. That he'll wake up in his cot soon from this horrible dream. Cian twists his head just enough to catch sight of the same glinting bayonet from his dream before he finally hears that same exact shot. The bang resounds throughout his head as Cian feels the deafening pain of a gunshot wound to the chest once again. The force of the bullet entering into his body knocks him back into a tree.

His head hangs limply to the side, as he gazes up towards the blue sky again, the ringing constantly filling his ears. He feels empty, almost as if he is floating in space, still hoping for this all to be a dream as his conciseness floats into the black abyss.

~

The sound of a trumpet echoes through the silent morning as Cian shoots up again, frantically looking around and patting his chest, searching for some kind of sign that he's not injured.

"Girls, get your asses up. I can taste victory on the horizon and those goddamn red coats will get what's coming to 'em soon." Cian hears the words of his general. Instead of feeling calm at the sound, he begins to panic. Those were the exact same words he's been hearing for the past three days. He tears out of his tent, not taking the time to get dressed before he frantically looks for a fellow soldier.

"Hey you! Yeah you! What is the goddamn date today?" Cian shouts frantically at a lone solider.

"Its August 27, 1776 sir. Are you feeling okay, you look a bit pale?" The lone soldier questions Cian. He can only shake his head as a feeling of dread washes over him. The past two days had the same exact date as today. He opens his mouth as if he were about to answer, but the only sound that exits his mouth is a pained scream.

The scream of a wounded animal trapped in a corner with no escape route.