charlotte tarvers is only 14 when the war breaks out, but 17 when she signs up. she's heard the stories from her parents, lovers who found each other by chance on the front lines in world war one in the country of france, now passing down the storie...
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" The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly."
- The Great Gatsby
***
Many of the men on the truck noticed how Charlotte wasn't talking, how she stared off, her quiet demeanor, and her slow reaction time. The trucks slowly began their trek toward the camp and Gene watched as Charlotte slowly fell asleep on his shoulder, completely out cold, exhausted and worn out. She hadn't gotten much sleep in all their time out here, and she was working practically around the clock by this point, so when little snores came out of her mouth, he didn't question it. The trucks pulled in late that night, and Gene carefully awoke the girl from her exhausted state. She sat up and silently got down onto the ground, and followed Gene to the aid station. They got in and saw the chaos already overflowing. Gene immediately stripped his gear off, but watched as Charlotte stood aimless and emotionless staring at the sight of death and blood in front of her.
" How about you go shower, eat and then rest, Charlie? You'll feel better." Gene assured the young girl. She looked up at him with big eyes.
" Are you sure?" she whispered ever so softly, finally hearing her quiet voice after hours of silence. Gene nodded.
" Please, for me." he said with a nod. She nodded and then turned and went towards the shower hut. The dark moon that hung above the camp shone down on the silent soldier as she trekked past the loud mess hall, loud, cheerful voices filling her ears as she slumped further down and sulked toward the showers. She found the one lonely shower in the back, closed off from the rest, a fresh pair of ODs already sitting there, as if knowing she'd be visiting the showers that night. She sat down and began untying her shoes, pulling the boots from her feet slowly. She yanked the socks as well, her feet finally breathing fresh air. The girl left her medic satchel, helmet and boots outside as she grabbed the ODs and stepped inside the shower.
She undressed the rest of the way and began scrubbing at her body with the bar of soap. She saw her fingernails on her hands again, and she saw the layers of dirt build up. She felt her face become clean again. She saw her tanned skin, and taking out the braids in her hair, she felt clean. Her mind wandered as she continued to feel the rain fall down her skin, leaving trails in the mud-caked dirt as it washed away to the drain, the blood and the grease and sweat slowly following. She didn't even realize as she stood there that there were tears falling down her cheeks, mixing with the water, the rushing sound of the shower, covering up her tears. The pain of the last month finally caught up with the girl, her sobs racking her body, as her arms steadied her, holding her up on the two sides of the shower as she felt the tears rush like a waterfall down her face. Her heart had never felt so heavy, and the exhaustion had never been so prominent.
Charlotte had never felt the guilt she now felt, of how she wasn't able to save some of those men that had died while they were here, or how some got injured and would never return. How they were fine one minute and gone the next or screaming in pain and being evacuated. She forced herself to bite her tongue, to stop her crying and the tears and all the pain she felt and shove it down the water drain just like every physical thing that came off her, telling herself she had to act ok, that she was fine and alive and breathing, even though she felt suffocated. Her hair was a soaking mop as she stepped out of the shower and she let it hang in those wet ringlets down her back. She didn't even recognize the feeling of how stiff the ODs felt, or that she was clean, or that she was slowly placing the sun pendant around her neck with the dog tags.
