Never let me go

4: I stumble

Wall Rose Year 850 - Military training camp - Women's bunkhouse:

Iris did not quite know what to do with herself. Sitting alone in the women's bunkhouse, she was thinking way too much and doing way too little. Her three years of training as a cadet would soon be over, but she felt like she had learned very little. She had expected... to feel harder perhaps. Controlled and strong and all those things that the soldiers in the stories had read were. But those had been childish fantasies too, she supposed. A little girl sitting in a tree, reading from a tattered book ten years ago had believed in the stories though. She had thought putting on a uniform equalled putting on emotional armour as well. But as it usually was, reality was nothing like the stories.

She was alone in the bunkhouse, and the camp outside felt deserted too. The day was cloudy, but the temperature was mild and the air was still. Most, if not all the other cadets had gone to Trost for their monthly visit during their day off. As always, Iris had considered going too, but never actually made the trip. Instead she was sat on the edge of her bed, bored and lonely.

Deciding to go for a run she stood, and walked over to the mirror on the wall. With deft hands she brushed through and braided her hair loosely, just so it wouldn't get into her eyes. Then she studied her face for a few moments. When she had joined the military training corps almost three years ago, she had thought herself fully grown. Yet another folly of a sixteen year old girl, she supposed. Since then she had grown a little taller, but apart from that her body remained much the same. Her face however had changed. The slightly childlike roundness had left her cheeks, and now she could see the contours of her cheekbones. Her lips were full, but her mouth small and severe with it's naturally turned down corners. Her nose was pointed and razor sharp, sadly adding to her already austere expression. If only she had a dainty little nose to soften her face like Christa had. Her eyes were large, their outer corners turned down slightly giving her a sorrowful look, and above them her brows were stern and curved. She thought she had a face made for frowns and scowls rather than sweet smiles. She felt dismayed by this person who stared at her judgingly from the mirror, and quickly turned and left the bunkhouse.

She descended the steps outside the cabin, and then she started jogging towards the forest, and once her muscles felt warm and flexible the increased her pace. She heard birds tweeting and the smell of evergreen was refreshing. Her body felt strong today, so she upped the pace even more. She put her head down, and focused on her feet against the ground, and the sound of her own beating heart.

She ran until her lungs ached and she had the taste of blood in her mouth. Brightly colored spots had begun to swim around her eyes and cloud her vision, and she had lost feeling in both her hands. But she was back at camp soon, so she kept focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other. She could see the roofs of the barracks now, but the world around he had begun to sway and shift. She felt like all air had been squeezed from her lungs. One last slope, then she could rest.

Iris did not feel herself falling as much as she saw the world tilt before the dirt ground came rushing up towards her. She heard herself hit the ground, and she had a sensation that she had probably hit her left knee. The ground beneath her rocked up and down, and the brightly colored spots swam around in her field of vision. The ground smelled earthy and dry. She thought to herself that she should get up soon, but her body wouldn't move. First she would just close her eyes for a little while.

Her right ear was pressed against the ground, and she thought she could hear thunder. Or was it footsteps? She couldn't muster the energy to care which. Then the ground seemed to fall away below her, and for a moment she thought she was flying until she realised someone had picked her up. She tried to focus her eyes to see who was carrying her, but she was too dizzy. She could smell him however, and the familiar scent let her know whose arms were gently cradling her. Her assumption she had hurt her knee seemed to be accurate, because she began to feel a dull ache in it, and there was a burning sensation creeping up her thigh to her left hip. She tried to say his name, but was simply too exhausted to produce and intelligible words. She heard the creaking of wood and then the sun above her was shaded off by what must be a roof. Not really understanding where they were, she felt herself being put down on a soft surface. She drew in a breath, and his pleasantly familiar smell filled her nostrils. This must be his bed. Or maybe she had passed out and was just dreaming. She felt him brush a loose strand of her hair out of her eyes, and the warmth of his hand felt real.