'Reach for the healing from emotional pain and physical injury, for emotional and spiritual intelligence, for surviving through all challenges and difficulties, for long lasting happiness and youthful joy, for getting your wish fulfilled... Reach fo...
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Sadie laid with her head on Michael's bare chest, her fingers drawing patterns into his skin as he stared up at the ceiling. They'd finally made up, though it had only come after a lot of yelling and screaming. She looked up at him curiously, propping herself up onto her elbow to look down at him; the sunlight flittering over his features.
'You never got to tell me about that priest,' She reminded him.
'You still haven't told me what you did in the war,' He replied with a smirk.
She pursed her lips, 'It's not something to tell stories about, nothing heroic happened there. That's all you need to know... Did that priest- Did he touch you as a child?'
Micheal sighed as he rolled over to sit up, holding his head in his hands as his elbows leant on his knees. She sat up behind him, not touching him; just letting have a moment to himself. She watched him, listening to the breath that left his mouth.
'I'm-' She started.
'No, it's ok,' He waved her off; 'Come here.'
She moved to sit behind him, wrapping her arms around the front of his shoulders; resting her chin on his shoulder.
'You don't have to tell me,' The girl lowered her gaze.
'I want to... I just don't know how,' He replied softly.
'Take your time, love. We don't have to do it tonight.'
He nodded, 'Can you tell me one thing about the war?'
'Alright.'
Sadie licked her lips before she rolled them together, her eyes moving around as she tried to rack her brain for a less gruesome story then most.
'December, nineteen fourteen, I was based at a hospital by the front line... I had just arrived. There were three tents, all of them full to the brim with soldiers. I thought I knew fear then, when I stood there taking it all in. The war I had been somewhat sheltered from. But it wasn't even the beginning,' She paused for a moment; 'They threw me in feet first, put me onto a soldier with multiple gunshot wounds. He'd lost a lot of blood and was hardly alive when I got there. It was hard to concentrate with the stench around me, rotting flesh and blood... It wasn't five minutes later, a new round of soldiers were brought in and the nurse told me to leave the man I was with, but I refused... He died not two minutes later from his injuries with a whispered thank you.'
'Fuck,' Michael whispered.
'Yeh... I was fifteen.'
'Wait, how old are you now?'
'Almost twenty one.'
'You're a year older then me.'
'I try not to think about it, rather be twenty like you... Age is just a number, love.'
