Scarred hearts beat too

chapter 1:

Shouts of agony cry out into the barren war wasteland wreckage for relief, some knowing that the end is too near to be saved just screaming, begging and longing for someone to sit by them. So, now they are not alone when the reaper appears before them demanding they leave this mortal soil, leave their families, their memories become nothing but atomic matter left with no use. Laying metres away from one truck of the convoy; that a few moments before was holding a heart family of 12 soldiers days away from returning home to their motherland, to their families, to their “normal” society, lays an unnamed mangled figure with an inhuman appearance slowly becoming one with the flames that enjoyably feast and consume it whole. Their actions however just they believed them to be, allowed the reapers to claim a total of 28 warriors lives, 28 lovers who shall never consciously return, 28 children whose parents shall stand around their graveside with a flag, medals and heart’s broken in their chests.

“Hold on! just keep your eyes open, come on tom. PLEASE!” a broken voice could be heard saying to his lover, and best friend.

“We need to get you and him out of here. NOW! I’ve tourniquet your left leg and stopped his blood loss but he has still lost too much. we NEED to go. NOW!” Another voice with a more commanding tone said, this stranger was the one that fearlessly led and saved those who survived the attack by their actions, this stranger was the one responsible for the save of Corporal Patrick Daniels and Sergeant Tom Green from the reaper’s damning touch. Who will haunt their subconscious like an faceless guardian, close enough to shield the unsympathetic glacial coldness of death but too far to fully protect from the ever present inhospitable companion of fear, for years to come.

Amongst the deafening chaos of the immediate aftermath, in the secure grip of the medical professionals’ expertise and laying side-by-side, fingers interlocked inside the medical truck, our two warrior lovers relive the memories they carefully handcrafted over the many years of their, somewhat, secret relationship. The tears that have slowly been burning their own path down Patrick’s face, now become a waterfall of sorrow as he feels his phoenix’s pulse become faint and as distant as their secure home is to them.

“NO! HELP! SOMEONE HELP! come on Tommy, please stay with me phoenix. TOM! SOMEONE HELP!”

His heart wishes, wants and needs for his eye to allow him one last look at the man he has loved since he was 24 and a newly promoted corporal. Tom fights through the deadly silencing exhaustion and the slight coldness he feels slowly consuming his soul and heart just to see, one last time, his firefly.

“y-you know... i have... always.. wa-wanted... to-to have you-u by m-my side, firefly. t-till death d-do us pa-art”

“dont-t say that, you’re not leaving me yet! ok? we’ll be dancing beneath the stars tonight, you promised... remember?”

“y-yes, we’ll always be... i-in the stars t-together...*coughs more blood*”

Different shades of blood create a cooling drink for the dehydrated desert earth below, the scorched remains of those who had fallen lay peacefully protected from the harsh war around them and the pitiful wails of those they left within black body bags. The taste of death and agony overloads those who remain, the wretched bitterness ingraining itself on their brains ensuring its long lasting effects. A man stands tall with blood drenched clothes slowly seeping deep into his skin, his left side of his face horrifyingly cut but numbed by his adrenaline, the horror of what he had just been a victim of flashing in his emotionless ocean eyes, burning into his mind forever. They don’t notice him watching as they desperately cling tight onto the strands that hold their souls together, they don’t see the lone tear that falls from his dead-like left eye as he witnesses the hopeless promises they make. They don’t hear his orders for medics to save the fallen warrior laying in his lover’s arms as their universe begins to destroy itself with them taking the hits, he is just one of many blurred faces that will haunt the nights like a ghost trapped between worlds.

The last real image Sergeant Tom Green sees was the best thing to him, the man who stood by him through life, even when his pale skinned face is sunburnt, covered in bloody cuts and sand mixed with ash but he was heart stopping beautiful to Tom, his baby blue doe eyes sparkling with too many emotions to count made Tom’s last conscious thought grow so loud that he smiles one last time whilst unknowingly repeating it, whispering aloud:

“I’ll dance an eternity in the stars with you, Pats”

Those ten words became the last words heard from Sergeant Tom Green, they also became the most hated yet treasured words ever heard by Corporal Patrick Daniels. To the medics and co-survives around them when those ten words were spoken they became a symbol of how life will continue beyond humanities touch and comfort. None knew and will never fully understand that phrase first started life as a forced joke, said under some of the most hellish conditions known to humans in our modern age, to attempt to give hope.

All corporal Patrick Daniels could do as medics worked tirelessly on both him and his lover of 4 years was to watch as tubes were forced into the once luscious heart-shaped, rosy pink lips, now cracked and bloodied with the reaper’s ruby currency. His own pain, he is numb to, whether it is due to the blood-loss or shock slowly silencing his bodies effects; later once doctors state that he is stable once more, he will think it was his heart shattering into fragments like a broken mirror that prevent him feeling as he witnesses his phoenix clash down to earth.

“He’s flat-lining, prepare to shock”

“Shocking in ..1..2..3..CLEAR”

……..

As darkness slowly creeps and crawls into his line of vision, Patrick struggles to carry on holding onto consciousness, through he fights it valiantly his wannabe devil is stronger, more aggressive therefore he doesn’t hear the sounds of life flooding back and fueling the fire to roar through the veins of his phoenix. All he knows is that his world has just darken and he doesn’t believe that it will be lighting up again.

“Shocking again … 1 ..2 ..3 .. CLEAR”

beep…beep…beep…

In the depressing darkness of a limb rehabilitation ward, lies the body of a warrior whose mind can not find the peace it once had. His baby blue doe eyes hold nothing but tears and one emotion which has made his only constant companion through the burning pain he feels, loss. His family know nothing of the love he has lost, they believe the loss they see scarring his heart is that of his comrades not of his soulmate. As time passes, Corporal Patrick Daniels begins to fake smiles and forces laughter to stop the pitifully painful looks from his family, it works they don’t notice the broken look in his eyes or the way he always wears a simple necklace with a bolt-ring on it, but he notices how they say nothing about the friends that died or survived in fear of upsetting him; how ignorant they were of the truth. He would often think to himself when left alone in the loneliness of the long nights during the weeks of his recovery there; on the seldom nights that were not filled with the thunder of nightmares and blood rain, he would dream of a phoenix with mocha chocolate eyes filled with love and understanding, of slow dancing under stars wrapped within the arms of a sun kissed skin adonis. Only to awake once more upon this mortal plain as alone and cold as he was yesterday and will again tomorrow, thus increasing his sense of loss and agony, throughout the days doctors, nurse, and therapists poke and prod at him into remission and after 5 weeks in the confines of the ward he is finally given the news that he can go home with his family. However, the one home that he really wishes to go to, he knows will have to wait until the reaper comes knocking to repeat once again with his offer of eternity.

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