More than it seems
I know I shouldn't do this, 'cause when I do stuff like this all I end up doing is taking everyone else down with me, but I can't help it. I'm mad. Fed up with things as they are.
I know that things won't change just because I'm mad about it, but I guess I just can't fight the urge to just act how I feel.
Nothing changes from day to day here. You get new people but it just makes you more angry because they're all innocent and you start thinking how that was what you used to be like before you got tainted with bitterness of war.
In a description, drawing or painting of Hell you see wall to wall red- the fires of Hell, but I'm starting to think that maybe someone got it wrong and that it's all the blood. Maybe all the people who are in Hell are covered with the blood of those that they hurt and wronged in there lives and that's why it's all red.
I can only imagine the place being over-crowded. I mean, most people have commited a sin or two. Even Father Mulcahy has a crisis of confidence and if he stops with his beliefs even for just a little while does he get an automatic failure? I don't know enough, I'm not religious and have no real intrest but I'm sure he doesn't think like that anyway.
If so, what chance does a guy like me have. I guess maybe BJ and Radar could get into heaven with Mulcahy, but I think the rest of us are damned.
I'm not sure if red is better or worse than green, but that's to come. I guess I'll have the rest of the war in green and the rest of my afterlife in red. I'll have to wear a lot of other colors in between to make up.
I don't think it's really very healthy to think so much about Hell and the life that awaits me there, but this is just how I feel. That's why I'm sitting alone in the mess tent and not with my usual group, even though they're not here yet. I can see them in line, waiting to get some dinner, but I don't wanna eat that junk. I'm still wearing my scrubs and they're covered with the blood of the guys I've operated on, hey, would you look at that, I'm already half way to Hell.
They sit down with me and I move up to allow them easier access. BJ and Charles next to me and Potter and Margaret on the otherside.
They're gonna say something about my mood. I can tell, sense it if you like. They're looking at me in a certain way. Now, who's gonna be the designated speaker?
"Hawk" BJ begins. I smile inwardly, he's a good choice. I would have chosen him to speak to me, but not if I knew what kind of mood I was in. If that's clear. "Why didn't you, er, change out of your scrubs first" It's a simple question, the ice breaker. A way to try and judge the mood I'm really in before he has to engage me in proper speech.
"I didn't feel like it."
A simple answer and it gives nothing away. Okay, so I'm playing with them a little and I'll feel like a jerk later for being like this with my closest friends, but right now, it's just what I wanna do. Besides, not changing out of the scrubs is not a big deal,it's not like we've never come over here looking like we've just walked away from a car wreck. We've gone to sleep in the stuff before when we're really too exhausted to bother taking them off.
"Don't feel like eating either, son" He's refering to my coffee that is all that's in front of me.The Colonel uses his special soft tone of voice that he saves for moments like this. Usually he yells at me. I don't know if he's noticed it, but I sure have. It seems that whenever he's reaching boiling point the scalding water ends up all over me. The sympathetic tone's not gonna work today. I see through it right now and just think about how insincere he seems to be right now.
"I felt like sitting quietly for a while. Guess that's out the window." I say back. I know I'm gunning for one of them to pop at me, but they know me as well as I know them. They'll know that I'm after some of their anger and fury because that way I can know that someone else feels as bad about me as I do about myself. They're unfortunatly very good at playing this game, as good as me prehaps. I guess if they wanted to infuriate me, they could have all got up and left, because then I couldn't coax the response I wanted from them. I'm not sure I've done such a good job anyhow.
"Well, we're just having some grub. We'll try not to disturb you." Potter replies. Damn him! Who does he think he is? It's like he's speaking to a little kid or something. I swallow the rage down as best I can, my mood not improving from his comment.
I just concentrate on drinking my coffee, even though it's cold and taste awful, it's all I can do. And Potter keeps his word. They all eat more or less silently. It's gotta be uncomfortablt for them, but I'm not feeling it. Maybe that's the problem, all I'm feeling right now is anger. It clouds all the judgement I have and that can be iffy at the best of times.
The silence kinda comforts you after a while. It's not complete silence after all, everyone else is chatting happily. But the moment is broken when a voice finds itself unknowingly interrupting our stand off.
We all look towards the voice, the little kid looks over at all of us eating around the table, but his eyes rest upon me. He repeats himself and although he is obviously a Korean child, he speaks very good English. "Doctor, saved my mother. Only family left. I give you thanks and gift." He extends his hands, one taking hold of my wrist and pulling it towards him and turning it over so my palm is facing up. The other places something gently into my palm. He lets go and stands back while I look at what he's left me.
In my right hand there's a small rounded stone. His given me a stone.
"You like" he asks, a look of anxiety playing across his features.
I can feel the anger I've been holding onto go as a smile spreads across my face. I nod my head at him, not sure if talking will give me away to how something so stupidly simple get lift my mood more than my friends support. It's a gift from a family who has nothing to give you, but have made the effort anyway. I may mean more than anything I've ever ben given before in my life.
He smiles at me, relieved I like his gift.
He may have felt like he was repaying me for saving his mothers life, but I owe him right now. He may have just saved my sanity, or at least helped to uphold it for a little longer. "How about you come with me and I'll see if I can find something of use to you and your mom, huh?"
He looks confused. "I repaid you." he says, obviously knowing this wasn't supposed to happen.
I smile at him, a smile that spreads warmth and joy throughout me and reply "Let's just say I owe you this."
I get up and lead himtowards the exit of the mess tent. I glance back at my table. They've obviously been listening to all that's been said and have resumed normal behaviour now I've looked their way. They all have a little smirk on their faces, all except Margaret who's just beaming. I catch BJ's eye and he looks at me.
"I'll see ya." I say to them all as I leave.
Maybe I've got more going for me than I think.
The End
Author's note: I'd like to dedicate this story to everyone who's ever reviewed one of my stories. Just like the stone, you're words can mean more to someone than you'll ever know. . This is reviwers of all my work not just here but at other locations and from other fandoms. Special thanks to some people.: Bethany, you've been really great and it's nice to have someone to talk to about all things. Colin, someone who's put faith in me when we hardly know each other. Sarah, wherever you are for getting me to write fanfic in the first place.
This title comes from the Meatloaf song 'Good girls go to heaven (Bad girls go everywhere)
You don't have a lot
But it's all that you've got
And you can turn it into more than it seems
Give it a shot
Fantasize every movement and
Imagine every inch of your dream
No one said it had to be real
But it's gotta be something you've been wanting to feel now
It ain't right
It ain't fair
Castles fall in the sand
And we fade in the air
And the good boys go to heaven
But the bad boys go everywhere