Revised story from my original account- "HannahVintage". I got locked out so I decided to republish here. Life got crazy, but I'm finally back to write as a tool of relaxation.
DISCLAIMER- I don't own anything but my character.
1938
My petite frame flew across the living room, violently slamming into the adjacent wall. For the moment, I could not discern my own screams from that of my husbands', Herbert Sobel. As a first lieutenant in the United States Army, he had considerable strength and pent up aggression. Blood from my forehead drizzled into my mouth making me gag. My eyes swam with tears and sweat. My current situation was a product of my own mistakes and the nightly bottle of whiskey my husband treated himself to.
Wrenching me from my morbid thoughts was the sensation of Herbert grabbing a fistful of my curly blonde hair and forcing my face to go crashing into a nearby picture frame. Usually, I was numb by now, but the unimaginable shock of having glass stuck in my face caused a new wave of pain and anguish to roll over me.
As I slumped to the floor, the last words I recall were something along the lines of "that's what you deserve you miserable bitch".
Bright rays of sunlight penetrated through the curtains of the living room and fell upon my limp body. As I stirred, my body ached with the pain of last night's beating. Raising my throbbing head, I surveyed my surroundings and came to the conclusion that I was safe for now.
When I finally inched my way up the stairs and to my vanity, I took stock of my new injuries. I looked like a victim from a horror movie with the amount of blood matted in my hair and dried upon my face. I quickly got tweezers and skillfully removed the tiny shards of glass that were embedded in my face.
After completing my morning nursing ritual to myself, I carefully selected a wonderful gray cotton day dress and slipped on my apron for the day. I wouldn't want Herbert to come home without dinner on the table.
The clock struck seven and I jumped with anticipation. It was now safe to assume that Herbert decided to stay in the barracks tonight. Breathing a sigh of relief, I stowed away the pot roast I prepared in our new ice chest. As I shuffled over to the stove to take out a pie, a sharp knock at the door startled my consciousness. My heart started racing and my palms instantly got moist, I rarely had visitors at this time of night.
Swinging open the front door, I was relieved and disappointed to see the face of my best friend Marie standing with her hands on her hips. For a moment, I dreamt it was the chaplain coming to inform me that my husband died in a training accident but I quickly scolded myself internally for my harsh thoughts.
"Oh Rory, I would have come sooner today but I wanted to wait to make sure he wasn't returning home for the night" Marie said as she entered the front door.
As we settled into our familiar positions at the kitchen table she quietly "tsk'd" as she mentally took inventory of my newest injuries that I had failed to cover up with makeup. She silently began to unload a pile of first aid medical supplies from her purse onto the table for me to use in the upcoming weeks. I relied on her to take care of my more severe injuries as well as supply me with bandages and such since I could rarely go out in public. Marie was a nurse working at the military base hospital, and she was also married to one of the first lieutenants here at Camp Toccoa. She met her husband Paul when he came into the hospital from a routine airborne jump and broke his leg. She slowly nursed him back to health and they fell in love. Just the thought of it flipped my stomach and made me green with envy. She currently lived next door in a similarly modest house that was unfortunately in hearing distance to my occasional screaming. One morning she showed up at my doorstep with medical supplies, didn't say a word, and tended to my wounds. From then on, we slowly became best friends that relied on each other for everything.
"Rory he is going to kill you. You need to report him, I am so concerned for you." Marie said with a sad and empathetic expression. It was a conflict of interest if she were to report anything since our husbands were constantly competing for promotions.
"You know I would if it would make any difference. But it's not so bad anymore, he rarely comes home. Apparently he is a candidate for an upcoming assignment so he has been staying in the barracks to be the first for everything. It's okay…really…I can handle it" I said tiredly.
"Well, I don't think you rotting away in this old house is going to help matters either. You need to get out and do something meaningful besides cooking uneaten meals and cleaning your house every day. The hospital just had a nurse go on maternity leave in fact, and I think you would be a perfect candidate. You could finally have some money of your own and something to look forward to every day. There is barely any patients and if I was your mentor it could be an adventure!" Marie raved.
Considering my already practical first aid experience, the prospect of doing something on my own seemed novel. I quickly nodded my acceptance before I had a chance to fully comprehend such a monumental decision.
Before I could fully start to celebrate my new found ideal of independence the front door swung open and Herbert aggressively stomped through the hallway…
Hey Everyone! Thank you so much for reading my 1st new & revamped chapter of Band of Heroes. In the next chapter, we will be meeting the men we love so much! I just really wanted to give some context to Rory's living situation. I will be loosely following the story I started with but I have formulated some really great new ideas to make this story SO much better. I can't wait for romance!
Please review! I would really appreciate any feedback.