Hey guys!
So I'm on a OneRepublic music binge right now, and their song "Mercy" is absolutely gorgeous. I was listening to it last night and a half-formed idea suddenly popped into my mind and I knew I just had to write it down. I actually wasn't going to publish it, since I'm not sure how good it is, but I realized I would like to hear your guys' feedback on it. Good, or bad?
My grandfather was telling me what it was like to be shot, since he fought in the Korean war and was wounded, and he said that when he got to the point where he lost enough blood, he couldn't tell the difference between what was reality and what wasn't. So I'm basing Sam's experience off of his.
Hope you enjoy! xx
Sam struggled to keep his eyes open. There was an urgency in his rookie's voice that made him want to obey her command.
"Sam...Sam! Keep your eyes open. Stay with me, Sam, stay with me," she begged. He could feel her hands against his cheek, cupping his face.
Through his fluttering eyes, everything was fuzzy and out-of-focus. There was a blinding white light that seemed to pierce his pupils. Suddenly, the light disappeared as a face took its place.
In his state of confusion and pain, he thought it was an angel.
A sudden fragmented memory came to the forefront of his mind, of him as a child, at Sunday school, as Ms. Brooks had talked about angels. How there were many different kinds - warrior angels, like Michael, messenger angels, like Gabriel...
The beautiful face in front of him now was framed by cascading brown hair and had two deep, dark eyes that he struggled to keep focus on. The pain that was coursing through his body seemed to ebb away as he maintained visual contact with them.
This was an angel of mercy. His angel of mercy.
And then an indistinct shape pressed something to his abdomen and blinding pain flashed through his him. The angel's face disappeared, shoved from his ever weakening line of sight. The pain grew to be too much, and he let out a muffled scream.
As he drifted out of consciousness, he clung to the image of his angel of mercy.
For a brief moment, Sam regained consciousness. His eyes cracked open a slit - all he could manage with the morphine that was in his veins. He felt he was moving forward. He tried looking around; everything was too fuzzy to make out distinct shapes and objects.
He heard a strange wailing sound that seemed to be coming from above him.
And then, he felt his hand being covered, and to his left, a face jumped into focus.
His angel of mercy was crying.
And then everything went black.
The first thing Sam saw when his eyes opened again was his angel, asleep in a chair next to him.
He frowned as that thought surfaced in his mind.
He vaguely remembered a beautiful, angelic face that had been with him throughout horrible, excruciating pain.
But the face wasn't that of an angel. It was his rookie, sleeping with a troubled expression on her face. There was a smudge of dirt across her right cheek that was streaked with dried tears.
He became aware of a warm sensation in his right hand that his left one lacked. Looking down, he saw his hand enclosed in hers. He tried to squeeze it, the movement waking her.
She opened her eyes, looking straight at him. A smile crept across her face. And even though her eyes were bleary and blood-shot, they were still the ones Sam remembered.
His eyes widened at the realization.
Andy McNally was his angel of mercy.