Unscathed

1. Shaking Walls

Lying on my bed, I keep fiddling with my ring. The hard, cold bed had given me a backache and I felt like throwing up. The sounds of gunshots shook the walls and made me jump. Even though I had been enduring this for the past seven months, I still can't rid myself of this fear. Not the fear of the dark, or the gunshots even. Ever since Eric left for the trenches, I've been having a recurring nightmare about him. It had gotten so bad, I wish I could abandon sleep. But lying here like this, in the darkness, without any distractions, my mind kept straying back to him. Holding my hand up in front of my face, I watch my ring sparkle in the moonlight seeping in from behind the blackout curtains. The corners of my mouth slightly lifted. I had surprised my whole family by proposing to him instead of the other way around. I never really did agree with the London Society's views on women. But Eric never disagreed with my feminist views, it felt like he was perfect for me. But this war had come in between us, ripping us from each other. All too familiar tears threatened to spill. Obviously, I could do nothing about it now. At least not here.

I tiptoed through the dark halls, careful not wake anyone. I knew that the night nurses would be in the main ward, so instead, I made my way to my secret sanctuary. Hidden away in the storage room, I found a little trapdoor in the ceiling while looking for a splint. Since nobody seems to have any use for it, I made it my own. It was tall enough for me to stand in, a little bent over. It had been so long since I last came here, and I missed being here. There was this sense of security I felt while I was in this little box. My favourite part of being here was the tiny window on the wall. I think it might've been a vent for something, but now I used it to look up at the stars. The sky always seemed to fascinate me, being so infinite and beautiful. Looking at it helped me escape from this miserable place, helped me to feel free. But that freedom only ever lasted so long. Seeing the sky turning lighter, I got up, knowing my colleagues would be getting up in a few minutes. On my way back to my room, I bump into Emily, my roommate and best friend. 

"Where were you? Oh god, Melanie, you scared me! When I woke up and saw that you weren't on the bed, I thought... Never mind that. Come, let's get you washed up," she babbled.

Emily had been my friend ever since she moved in next to my house back in Marlow. She was the one who helped me when Father died. I was there for her when her brother eloped with his girlfriend. We have had each other's backs since as long as I can remember. So when I told her I was going to enlist, we both knew she was coming. And without her, I don't know how I would've been able to survive living here, especially after proposing to Eric. She had comforted me countless times in the middle of the night, putting me to sleep when I used to wake up crying. I'm surprised how she stays so calm during all of this. Emily is the strongest yet the most gentle person I've ever met. 

When I finally get ready, I ask Emily to help me with my hair. She comes over to me and ties up my chestnut hair into a series of complicated twists on top of my head, with a few wisps framing my face. When I look in the mirror, the girl staring back at me is almost pretty, except for the dark circles underneath her once hopeful eyes and her flushed skin. I sigh as Emily tells me to take better care of myself.

"You just don't eat enough," she huffs.

"I know," I say, sensing there's no point in arguing with her.

"When we go downstairs, I will make sure you eat every little crumb of your rations."

"Yes, mom," I sigh, smiling.

When I finally make my way downstairs, I see that most of the nurses already had their rations and were sitting in groups, chatting. Picking up my rations, I walk with Emily. Looking around, I see nurses laughing, talking, smiling. The isolation here had forced us to make bonds with each other that had grown strong over time. We were all like sisters here, and there was a sense of community every day as we worked towards a common goal. Helping end the war. Smiling, I sit down beside Emily. This was the only part of the day when we all felt normal, like there really wasn't a war raging all around us.

"I wish it could be like this all the time," Emily sighs.

Sadly, we only had a few minutes to enjoy this. All too soon the bell rang, signalling the start of our exhausting day. 

Heading down to the office, I take a look at my agenda for the day. I was going to help with the more serious injuries. Being a nurse doesn't need too much training, but my father used to be a doctor and passed down his knowledge to me. I wanted to get a degree, but being a female, it was ridiculously difficult. Fortunately, the lessons Father gave me paid off here since I was one of the handfuls of people who could properly attend to more serious wounds. Going over to the main ward, the sight of the soldiers makes me stumble. Even though I had been working here for so long, I could never get used to the suffering that these poor men had to endure. I am human, after all. Taking a deep breath, I head over to bed 143, where a man with a massive wound on his chest lay unconscious. I could see that he was losing blood fast, so I quickly started to work. I took a clean rag and applied pressure to the wound, slowing the blood down. After it seemed like the blood wasn't gushing from the wound anymore, I grabbed some antiseptic and another clean cloth and started cleaning his wound, carefully wiping away the dirt he was caked in. Once I finally reached the actual wound itself, the boy screamed out in pain. I put my hand to his forehead and gave him some liquor to drink, to numb the pain.

"It's almost over love, stay strong for me," I said, trying to comfort him. 

The fact that he was now fully conscious and writhing in pain, forced me to call someone to hold him down. 

"Brandon!" I shouted.

In a few seconds, a large man with a head of dirty blond hair appeared. Wordlessly, he grabbed on to the soldier's arms and legs, holding him still. I gave the poor boy some more alcohol, and with a little more persuasion, I finally managed to clean the wound. 

"Okay, I'm going to start stitching now. It won't hurt as much, but I need you to stay still," I said, looking the man in his terror-stricken eyes. He just barely nodded, and I gestured to Brandon to let go. 

"What's your name?" I asked after the man had calmed down a bit. He was young, with dark hair and blue eyes. 

"Marcus," he replied with a hoarse voice. 

"I'm Melanie," I said, "But you can call me Mel. Are you feeling better now?"

"A bit, I guess," he replied, taken off-guard.

This made me smile. "I gather it's been long since someone talked to you?"

"You have no idea, "All I hear everyday is commands and gunshots."

Stitching up the last of the wound, I turn around to get bandages. "Would you mind if I asked you a question?" I heard him say behind me.

"Not at all," I replied.

"Can I have some more of that liquor?"

"Sure," I laughed, "It must have been long since you last had some. And I think that we should celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

"You, of course," I smiled.

Leaving behind a drunk Marcus, I carried on to my next patient. While I was finishing up on my third patient of the day, Mary approached me with a worried look on her face. Seeing her, I felt something gnawing in the pit of my stomach, sensing something was wrong. 

"You received mail," she said.

Author's Note:

Hello Everyone!

First of all, thank you for taking the time for reading this. I had lots of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did.

With winter break going on, my updating schedule is going to be irregular, but frequent. (Hopefully) After the New Year, I'll be updating once or twice a week. I want this book to be about 45 chapters long, and I might write a sequel.

Please feel free to point out any mistakes or make suggestions.

Until next time!

-VW