Al Qusayr, Syria; Doctors Without Borders

7

shoulders and set off at a run. At that moment I knew that even though danger was afoot, time was paramount.

By the time I had got back to the tent the upper-left half of my shirt had become stained with blood. My entire body hurt and my lungs craved rest but I managed to shout over the morning gunfire. My noise alerted a few doctors and by the time I got back a stretcher was waiting. I dumped the girl into the stretcher. No one paid any attention to me, instead they all crowded around the girl as she was wheeled off. I trotted after the swarm of doctors to try to help my patient but the pack was unbreachable. I knew I would have to come back later so I just walked over to my cot and plopped down. I wiped a spare shirt lying on my bed over my forehead. The sweat was immediately replaced by more sweat. Even though it was dawn it was still exceedingly hot. I sunk my head into my tiny pillow, my eyelids slowly began to sink and I drifted into a sleep.

I woke at 2 in the afternoon. I sat up slowly, my stomach muscles sore in every way. I had never been part of the big muscle squad. Moreover, I was just the opposite, always hanging out with the nerds. Athletics had never been of significance to me, nor any of my friends. I was always the kid who would cower in the corner in dodgeball games and the kid who would hide under the bleachers instead of running laps.

I hauled myself out of the tiny cot dazedly and was immediately handed an assignment for a broken arm. The man who I was operating on had recently gotten his injury. His face was still flinched. The painkillers hadn't set in yet. I began to put a temporary brace on the arm and do the other normal activities doctors do when addressing a fracture. While I was finishing up with the cast I noticed the girl who I had helped. I had completely forgotten the girl. I stared for a