The Answers Are Not in the Consolations

It’s morning. It’s that time when the sun is still nestled away into the depths of night but the sky is a certain hue of blue that is welcoming. I can see this through the crack of my certains as I lay across the room in my bed. My mind slips into motion as my unconscious movement drags me from under the duvet. I draw my legs towards my chest as chills shred scars into my skin from the crisp air. My body aches and I feel weak. I search for my strength as I outreach my legs so that my feet contact the ground. My breath glitches as I feel my lunges get caught up in the insanity of my jostled mind. POW. I’m frozen and I can't move, but I can. The silence is eerie as my eyes slowly revolve downwards and my fingers glide along the midst of my stomach. I find blood as such a fine concept, as for what I can recall learning at the moment. James Harrison had donated his blood over 1,000 times, saving millions of lives. With the blood I see trailing out at the moment, I think I can beat his standards. The bullet is lodged into my body and even though I feel the gentle trickle of warm tears stream down my face, my cheeks begin to lift in spirit.

“Aspen! Get up, come on, move,” says a voice that has a familiar hum.

My mind joggles to figure out who it is. I feel someone's contact on my skin and I immediately remember. My eyes revert to the scene before me, and I remember. I’m in a war. Bain speaks over the radio as I hear him in a faint whisper. He then looks down at me and tells me something with a look of an apology, but I can no longer hear him. Soon after his mouth has clasped shut, his thumb lodges into the wound. I pivot forward, into a fetus position as the pain overwhelms me yet I’m still high in spirit. This pain is agonizing as my thoughts cloud over and i'm able to yawn my way into a deep sleep as I hear the approaching blades of a helicopter approaching. What am I thinking, there is no helicopter, at least not for me. As soon as they came, they are gone just as fast. I think Bain receives this small detail over radio as my head falls limp in his motion to stand up with me in his arms. He’s running to base and as i glance back at my previous position, I see the little necklace with an airplane charm that my family had gotten me on deployment day. It is the only thing that connects me back to my family back home, and now it is being left behind along with a picture of them that I will most likely never see again. My hand slightly lifts to make Bain aware of my dilemma but I’m too weak.

I feel a certain sickness churning in my stomach that leaves me feeling unsettled. There is only three days left of deployment and I was doing well up until now. I finally rest my eyes and leave my trust in Bain’s hands as he picks up the pace. He is going to run the four miles needed to get to base. This is good though because Noah is there, and he is my best friend. All these guys are my friends, they are here for me. When my eyes next flutter open, I’m on one of the cots in the barracks. There is one of our doctors to the right of me as she watches my eyes slowly open and welcomes me back to the present.

“Hello Aspen, how are you feeling?” She questions me.

My mind travels to the particular soreness on my abdomen where there is an outline of a bandage that covers the bullet wound. I now recognize Noah kneeling beside me, in his bulletproof vest, the desert dust lightly making distressed marks across his face, and rifle in hand. I feel embarrassed for some reason, knowing that he is seeing me like this. Noah is my best friend here, as for we are always joking around and produce the greatest amount of laughter in this crap of a show.

I finally revert my thoughts back to the doctor,purposefully avoiding her question asking, “How long have I been out?”

She replies, “It’s been three days ma’am.”

My head almost snaps to her direction, “You mean we’re heading back to the states today?”

“No,” Noah is speaking now as i stare blankly at the ceiling,”That bombardment you encountered is delaying us by two days, then we’ll be heading back.”

I don’t make any sort of effort to respond but, rather,close my eyes to try and ease my emotions.

To avoid the continuous silence the doctor decides to intervene, “Well you better get some rest to help your healing,” then to Noah she says, “Let’s head out.” With that, my eyes already closed, I feel Noah’s hand grasp my arm in a quick, tight grip. The tears begin to build as I think of my family and I feel the urge to puke.

The next two days come and go with me only tossing and turning in the cot, sleeping. Cooper, another one of the boys in my company, a little smaller and slimmer in stater, lightly shakes me awake.

“Hey, it’s 18:30. We’re heading home,” he says, “Do you need help carrying your sack?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks though.” He slightly nods his head and walks away.

Just then Bain walks up to me, “Hey you’re looking much better!”

“Yeah, thanks for helping out man. You’re a true brother.”

“Anytime Aspen, there’s no one else I’d rather help out.”

“Thanks,” I say as I take the effort to sit up. The pain is greatly present but I suck in my breath and bite the inside of my lip to avoid the attention. Lifting my eighty pound sack becomes an even greater struggle and is taking