𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917

10. ANYWAY

" I don't think it'll ever go away. "

-

(Flashback nr 2)

THE WOMAN'S NAME was Camille. She had arrived at the camp a couple of days earlier and now worked there as a caregiver.

She was nice. Sometimes a bit too much. It was unknown territory to Jo, that sort of gentleness. But she enjoyed it, somehow in need for the soft affection given to her by the kind woman.

The rushing was over. Josephine didn't know who won this time, but she didn't care anymore. 'Winning' didn't mean anything regardless.
Whatever would happen to this war wasn't up to her. She could simply do her best in keeping those fighting for the Alliance alive and that was it.
That was her duty and no more.

She sat on a barrel. Her feet covered in mud after the cold rain that had swapped the french fields. The ends of her dress drained in dirt and her hands hard and swollen.

Her arms were wrapped around her body, trying to keep herself warm in the unregular and freezing weather. Sitting still and staring out into nowhere.

"Allez-vous y rester toute la journée?"

She turned to her side and watched as Camille slowly approached her. Are you just going to sit there all day?

Jo didn't want to speak. Speaking to people never benefitted her anymore.

"C'est bien, chérie," Camille said, smiling softly. It's alright, honey.

She put her hands behind her back and watched the young nurse silently. Jo had turned away her gaze once again. Breathing in the cold, fresh air slowly.

"Vous êtes trop jeune pour voir des choses comme ça," Camille spoke up again, catching Jo's attention. You are too young to see things like that'.

She was talking about it all. The wounded, the victims, the death.

Jo's head turned towards the woman and a conflicted look appeared upon her face.
As if Camille even remotely could understand Jo's feelings after barely just meeting her.

"Je suis venu ici parce que je le voulais," she said in an almost defensive tone.
I came here because I wanted to.

"Oh, je sais que," Camille chuckled.
Oh, I know that. "Mais ce n'est pas ce que j'ai dit." But that's not what I said.

Jo remained silent.

"Quel âge avez-vous maintenant?" How old are you now again? Camille's voice spoke up once again.

Jo hesitated, looking back into the empty landscapes. "J'ai dix-neuf ans." I'm nineteen.

Camille's eyes stared at Jo with almost a saddened look. As if she was thinking about something Jo didn't understand.

"Ce n'est pas beaucoup," she mumbled, tilting her head.

That's not a lot.

Jo pressed her lips together. Her eyebrows furrowing and exhaling roughly out her nose. Finding it hard to answer the words coming from the woman to her side.

Josephine was stubborn, but only because she had to. It wasn't easy to admit that you were wrong or that you made foolish mistakes in a world where mistakes caused your downfall, or worse; the downfall of others.