Could Have Been...

It could have been you. That's all that I can think of as I sit here at the picnic table under the sky that's now darkening; droplets of rain wetting my sweatshirt as the wind rustles the leaves of the trees that surround me, soothing me somehow as I sit so silently, having needed to escape the ward...and you, just for a little while.

It could have been you on the cold floor, hands shaking and skin burning; blistering and reddening as the acid takes its terrible toll, screaming in agony for help and sweet release as your beautiful features become marred and changed forever because of a gang...an initiation...something awful enough to change lives forever.

It could have been you laying in that hospital bed; the damage done; the porcelain skin of your striking face burned, blistered, weeping and angry, never to be the same again. Lying there unresponsive, unable to speak and not wanting to as tears stream down your gauze covered cheeks; gauze that I would have to change for you to be able to treat the wounds so terribly inflicted on such an undeserving soul; tears that I would do anything to take away from you knowing that if I could change places with you I would.

It could have been you so easily being taken away to the burns unit; now forever jaded with the world, forever tortured by the scars, forever fearing that no one could ever love someone with looks so damaged by one cruel and horrific act. You wanted to get him ready for the move to Darwin. You told Lucy that you would do it because he was your patient. It could so easily have been you had she said yes. Had he not been fussed about who he was going to be hurting. You would have been the one lying there broken and burnt as we held you and tried to fix you, knowing that it was futile...that the damage had already been done. Lucy's being new saved you. It was that which marked her for his torturous and horrendous act. In a way I am grateful to her and for that I feel terrible. What kind of Nurse is grateful for one persons suffering saving another? What kind of person does that make me?

I don't know what I would have done if it had of been you. If I'd had to hold you as the acid took hold on the skin of your face and neck, distorting the features that I have come to adore and to think so beautiful. I don't know how I would have coped seeing you in that hospital bed, bandaged, scarred and broken knowing that all I was able to do was change the gauze covering your angry wounds; having no words to comfort you or to calm those painful tears. No way to reverse the damage that had been done. All I would want to do would be to fix you and knowing that I could not...I think would have left me just as broken as you would be; my feelings for you, those I bury so deep, making me feel just as fragile and helpless every moment that I would have to see you suffer knowing that life for you would never be the same again.

You will never know how I am feeling right now. I will never show it. You will never know the helplessness that I feel knowing that something so awful came so very close to hurting you; to tainting who you are and bringing blackness to the heart that while annoying, is still so well meaning and still so very warm...so suited to the beauty of you and the complexity of your soul. To think of you in such pain as Lucy; so burnt, so emotionless, so helpless...brings a pain to me that you will never know for I am certain that the way I feel...the fears that I have will mean no more to you than I do...the Nurse who is the mystery you wish to unravel...nothing more. Never anything more.

I see you walking towards me, pulling your matching hospital sweatshirt around you; the wind blowing the loose strands of your hair and making you look almost angelic. You look a little strange in your pretty dress and hooded top but you don't seem to mind because on your face is a look of concern; one which deepens further as you sit down at my side. It is as if you have tunnel vision and at that moment nothing else matters but me.

You reach out a hand and brush my cheeks with your fingertips and it is then that I realise that I have been crying; crying tears for you and those terrible what if's, crying tears because I feel guilty for being glad that it was someone else hurt and not you with your porcelain skin and stunning red hair. A salty tear drips on to my lip and I brush it away with my tongue; unable to look you in the eye for fear that the tears will come harder...tears that I never wanted to show you but which refuse to leave as you sit so close to me that I can almost feel your heart beating against my arm.

You prop my chin up with your fingertips and compel me to look into those brown eyes. They too are watering. They too are filled with pain.

"I didn't know where you were." You say softly, your voice breaking with emotion. "God, are you okay?"

"No I'm not." I reply with a shake of the head, your fingertips still propping up my chin and your eyes staring piercingly into my own. "Because it could have been you..." I add, reaching out with a shaking hand and running my fingertips over your still flawless cheek.

With those words I get up from the table and walk away, hearing a gentle sob escape your lips and one of my own to match.

"Frieda..." You call; your voice full of emotion, and whether it's emotion for me I will never know for I cannot bring myself to turn around. Instead I just walk, unable to be around you for a little while, unable to think of anything but those piercing screams and how close I came to seeing you lying there tortured and suffering more than anyone should ever have to. I care about you more than you could ever know; more than I or you will ever be able to acknowledge and today all I can think is of is...it so easily could have been you.