𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917

21. MAMAN

" Maybe one day you'll write to me and tell me that you're also sorry, but you never seem to. "

-

IT TOOK A COUPLE seconds before Jo realized that the scream that was aching in her head was her own. Her eyes were pressed together tightly causing the pounding headache she had to only get worse. With her hand over her ears, she covered them from the sound of planes and gunshots that now were long gone.

There was nothing there. Gone- you could say.

She sat curled up alone in the bed with the blanket rapidly pushed away. It felt wrong, nearly poisonous.

There was nothing there.

Her breathing was slowly but surely getting back to its normal state. Her back was drenched in a cold sweat and her fingernails were digging into her palms, leaving small red marks upon her skin.

This was the eighth time since she had come home. Yet it seemed more than that. It was constant, surrounding her every move, thought, feeling. She dragged herself out of the nightmares each morning only to find that there was no relief in waking up.

Something had been buried within her chest that was not yet dead. Beating itself to death between her ribcage weak bridges.

She kept telling herself that it was over. That she was safe and that everything was alright. But that never worked and she knew that. Because when your senses are screaming 'danger', all you can do is follow protocol and flea. Flea from reality.

Jo was happy that no one was there to watch her. She felt embarrassed and she felt weak. It was like her experiences didn't want to let her go just yet. Something that caused her to break as soon as it was over. Jo hadn't been a soldier, but she was still in constant fight or flight mode.

It was driving her mad.

She got up. Her dark hair fell loosely down, reaching half ways down her back. The sun was barely even up, gleaming through the beige curtains, still, she started putting on her clothes knowing that she needed some fresh air.

-

It was cold and it was early. She wasn't supposed to be out, but Jo couldn't care less. Caring drained you too easily.

The cool breeze caused chills upon her bare skin. The flowy floral dress upon her body hung loosely, reaching down to her bare ankles. She was wearing her sheer nightgown underneath, knowing that she probably wouldn't come across any other person at this time.

The sun had still yet to arrive upon the gray sky. The stars were still slightly visible as she looked up and sighed.

She walked with slow steps down the road. Her fingertips touching the green leaves of the apricot trees as she walked by. Their softness and gentleness leaving a sense of relaxation behind for her to experience. Breathing through her nose, her lips parted. The crickets in the bushes echoing through the seemingly dead town.

Why did this war have to destroy anything and everything that was fine and beautiful? It had bled colour from everything, leaving nothing but a storm of grey.

The men were still long gone and left were their family, wives, and friends. Miserable and alone during this horrid time.