Broken Circle of Life

I'm not sure how long I was dead, unconscious, or whatever, but I awoke with eyes still blurry, and was unable to hear. It looked like it was still early morning, and that's when something passed overhead. It looked like a man, but more like a shadowed blur (As if that's a description).

I was about 90% sure that I was dead, but for some reason I couldn't help but focus more on the pretty sky. The purplish sky, the faint light off to my left, and the beautiful mix of blues and reds as the morning seemed to take over the night. Still unable to hear, move, or clearly see, I felt at least one of my senses come back when something heavy fell across my groin area.

No idea what that was. Suddenly, more of those blurs started to dash across my vision and out of the corner of my eyes. No idea what those were either. Focusing back on the blurry but beautiful sky, I then heard a light *Boom*. I figured the battle was still going on, but that didn't concern me since I was dead. Just then, two of those dark blurs hovered over me, and took up nearly my whole vision. They hovered there for maybe a few seconds, maybe a year or two, and I started to see the sky move. Still not sure what was happening, and disabled in almost all my senses, the dark blurs hovered at the top of my vision while the sky moved and more of those blurs passed by in my peripherals.

The sky stopped moving, and one of the blurs got real close, almost completely blocking my view of the pretty sky. Just for a split second, I got a clearer image of what the blur was. I had to admit, I thought the angels that carted people to Heaven and or Quetzel were supposed to be prettier than the thing before me. I only saw it for a second, but I saw the dirt covered and beaten face of an NCR trooper beneath a ragged mess of a brown helmet. More stuff happened as he put something to my mouth, but I only thought, "Good Ol Recovery Boys." Then, my vision faded again and the muffled sounds of battle continued.

The days in dark unconsciousness fluttered slowly away as I found myself looking up at a dark picture but with a blindingly bright light in the lower left corner of my sight. Off to my left were two less dark people standing there seemingly talking to each other. I couldn't hear at first, and I was still fairly sure I was still dreaming or dead. One of the faces drew closer to look at me, and I saw it. It was the face of the camp's chief medical officer, Doctor Richards. The doc muttered something, but I couldn't hear it. Then, I faded away again.

Coming back to consciousness (Sorta), I awoke to the same predominantly dark picture, and with that same light in the bottom corner. With that awakening, more thoughts creeped into my brain and I realized I wasn't dead, at least not yet. Eyes unable to move, I searched my locked focus for the doctor and his helper. This time, they were in the lower corner of my left vision, but the light behind them was too bright to see what they were doing. I couldn't move my head, but from the few glimpses I caught, they looked busy.

Just then, the doc's voice entered my skull, "PFC Harton, huh? Haha! Find yourself a legit reason to be in here now I see."

I replied dryly, "I wasn't faking that time. I really was feeling woozy from the heat." But realized my mouth wasn't moving.

The doc's voice entered my head again, "Jesus, look at him."

An unknown voice who I presumed was the doc's assistant said, "I know. I've seen raw steaks that look better than his arm."

I instantly asked, "What's wrong with my arm!?" but, my mouth didn't move again, and the two kept going about their business beyond my focus.

Again, I heard the doc, "Hope he doesn't jerk it lefty."

Before I could respond to that, the assistant said, "Wasn't Harton the guy who mailed that prostitute over a grand for a lock of hair?"

"That was PFC Utley! He's not even in my company!" I reflexively shouted internally, unable to defend myself.

"I think so. Either him or PFC Utley in Charlie company... It was probably Harton though." Said the doctor.

"Probably ME!?" No! On what evidence!? How could they mistake me with Utley!? We looked nothing alike, and our names weren't even remotely similar! I also never did anything like what they were accusing me of!

I was going to try and force myself into consciousness to defend myself when I felt a slight tingling sensation in my left arm. No idea what that was, but I couldn't stop to ponder the possibilities. My vision faded again.

I awoke once more however long later to the darkness, but the light was on the other side, and the two men were moving about off to my lower right this time. I couldn't move to see them, but the duo were almost completely out of my lower peripherals. Just then, more of their voices echoed into my head. What they were saying seemed almost out of order from the previous trash talking I heard.

The doc said, "Christ. They really did a number on him… But, nothing we can't fix."

"Newest member of the 66th, right? That don't account for his leg, but even corpses have a place in the army, Haha!" said the assistant with a dry chuckle that made the doc snicker.

Curious about what happened to my leg, I was suddenly more curious about that talk of the 66th. It was the word "Corpse" that caught my focus. Suddenly, the thought of me dying really dwelled on me for the first time since the start of this mostly unconscious experience. Clearly the assistant was joking about my corpse being implemented in that unit, but was I actually going to die? The doctor did say he could fix me up no problem, but then I wondered, "What the Heck happened to me?"

More thoughts trickled into my brain and I understood what was happening to at least some degree. I didn't know what happened out there in no man's or what the doc and his assistant were doing in the moment. However, If doc could fix me up, I'd return to the front line, and… Well, if I was dead, I wouldn't have to worry about getting killed again.

I thought about that "Circle of life" the idea coined by those who were injured in one way or another, fixed up, and thrown back on the line in no time. So, my thoughts jumped between me dying and getting fixed up and tossed back on the line.

My thoughts about my paralysis vacation's impending ruin were more panic worthy than the idea of dying, but my thoughts were interrupted by another dull pain. The tingling this time was in my right leg. The darkness began to cloud my vision once again, and I still had no idea what was happening, or what happened to me out in no man's (Aside from the dog snacking on me). For some reason, instead of a dreamless blackness, I dreamed of me, the doc, and the blurry assistant chopping firewood. Over and over again, chop, chop, chop.

When my vision finally came back to me hours, days, weeks, months, or years later, I was looking at a pure blue picture with a white light taking up the top of my sight.

As I stared into the blueness, I heard the doc say, "Good luck out there, Harton."