"Mmmh…Finny," I gave a long moan, coarse sand grating at the back of my throat. "Finny?" My fingers tightened around upturned clumps of mud and grass. I gazed through the eerie green haze that filtered through the canopy of leaves reaching out above me. The air, thick with moisture from yesterday's rain now saturated my lungs, weighing down every breath.
I found myself up on the balls of my feet, every part of my war-weary body protesting the action. Every part aching, begging me to just give up, stop trying.
I slowly remembered where I was, that there was no Finny. There was only this small pack of the bare necessities and the few other men left over from my battalion. Where were they?
Just behind me was a thin wall of trees and creepers that offered glimpses of a foot worn path in tiny, secluded pieces, but I didn't want to go. I brought myself back down onto my haunches with a defeated sigh. You could only live on false hope for so long.
My hand rummaged around inside the breast of my mud stained coat, pulling out a thin bundle of letters from home, and plucked one out from the middle. It was falling apart at the creases, edges nearly rubbed through. I gazed hungrily at it, waiting to be reminded of the courage that had brought me here in the first place, but the words were rubbed too deeply into the parchment, disappearing into pale, grey smudges. I grabbed another, but here the words were long black tears dragged down by the moisture of my own eyes.
What could I possibly manage without those words? From my mother, father…Finny? What did I have to fight for now? What did I have? I touched the crumbling pages again, pressed them to my nose, but the smell of home was gone: washed away by rain and tears.
I stared at the inside of my lids, the only thing familiar in this horribly confusing place. I wanted a pair of arms to remind me that I wasn't alone, a warm voice to fight this chill that threatened its way up my spine. But all I had was me, and my own arms were too tired to move, voice too weak to rise above a whisper. That is what I had left.
Why am I here? How is it that even the voice of the mind manages to quiver with fear, stained only with the reassurance of pain? I-I should be home…I'm only a boy. I'm only a boy!
I thought back to that defining moment when Brinker passed off that pen to me, when I pushed the tip in so hard the ink bled through the page.
"We're men now. Men."
I could still feel that place on my left shoulder where his hand had stung my back, when I swallowed the pain and blinked back the water in my eyes. I didn't feel like a man.
I coughed again, gasping on the dirt that still stung the back of my throat and pushed my eyes back open. I couldn't even get comfortable while I waited to die! I pounded my fists into the beach sand that simply wouldn't lie flat; surprised as I felt the fine dust sticking to my wet cheeks. I scraped it away, stomping my way to the shore. It wasn't until the icy, grey waters crashed against my ankles that realization came to me.
This wasn't some body-strewn beach at the shore of Normandy, this was my beach. Finny's! Ours! I wasn't staring into some cold black soil, waiting for the darkness to signal my end.
I stared across the endless swell of water to the dead, blue-grey of the sky. Where was the sun?
It started as a tentative blush, a perfect rose unfurling at the line where the earth seemed to end. It was delicate and self-conscious as it peeked over the edge of water, the gentlest strip of violet urging it on, pulsing above an impatient, bold red. The sweetest slips of honey worked themselves into the equation, the only color purposeful enough to fight its way out of the confusion, claim its place. It was this beauty right here that had people whispering of cities of gold, oceans that were really wines. And yet, the sun wasn't deceptive. People saw what they want to see, and made of it what they wished, but that didn't mean the sun was here to trick and deceive. It offered us something beautiful…golden. Perfect.
I glanced back at Finny, an eager grin settling along my mouth as I waited to see his reaction to such a novelty. But there was only his snores punctuating the air, adding its own part to this special symphony that only a few got to hear.
My feet pushed more dents into the forgiving sand as I moved up beside him, stared down at the perfect white moon of his face. The thin, blue-veined lids tightened with only the slightest recognition for the start of a new day, but I was fine with that. This could be all mine. I could be the only one to know that even the yellow of the sun, which we found so comforting, fought for its position. It's right.
I sat back down at the shore, cradling my head in my hands while the sun became a huge, round disk, bringing the sky to life.
There was some contentment to be found in solitude.
A/N: Sorry…kinda lost it at the end, but it's earlier than I expected! I would LOVE some critique and suggestions for the next chapter
