Violet Hill

January shook her head and stood as well, “Never mind.”

“So this is it, huh?” Bernard picked up some snow and threw it into the cold wind. “We’re over.”

January only nodded her head and hid a tear that fell from her eyes. If Bernard asked, she would blame it on the wind. Why did it hurt so much to let him go? He was too good for her, a saint in his own way. Why couldn’t it be easier for them both to say goodbye? Even Bernard seemed to linger where he stood. Nevertheless, Bernard spoke again.

“I’m joining the army.”

January frowned, “Why would you want to get yourself killed like that?”

“You’re breaking up with me, remember?”

She looked down to the snowy path in front of her. “Just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean that I don’t lo—um, care about you.”

Bernard had sworn that she was about to say that four lettered “L” word. It would have made all the difference. It would have made him beg for her to not join the church. He wouldn’t have turned his back and left her on Violet Hill.

If you love me, won’t you let me know?

The bombs were exploding everywhere; Bernard couldn’t escape from the falling limbs of his comrades.  He dove down and covered his ears from the sounds of the loud blasts. The dirt around him flew into the air with one last final boom. Bernard raised his head from the trench he had took shelter in and observed the carnage around him. However, the enemy forces weren’t done ruining the landscape on the battle field. A bomb landed near Bernard and he was thrown far off after the explosion. Soon medics were on the scene and took Bernard to the medic tent.

Blood was flowing from where Bernard’s ear had been and a large gash had taken residence along his arm. Pain radiated everywhere in his body and he believed he was going to die. But he wasn’t afraid of death. In fact, he secretly invited it. He wanted his suffering to be over with and finally know peace. He had had a regret filled life but the one thing he regretted most was losing January. If only he could see her face one last time before he left this world, then he could die happily. His eyes began to flutter closed when a nurse approached him.

“Come on now, Soldier,” she said in a voice that sounded heavenly to him, just as heavenly as January’s was. “Open your eyes, Sir,” she said as she began wiping blood away from his used-to-be-ear.

Bernard opened his eyes and saw the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen in his life. They were the eyes of an angel. Their blue was the color of the ocean and waves crashed in her irises. And they seemed so familiar, like he had met this young woman before. Bernard took inventory of the rest of her angelic face. The smooth pale skin held small freckles over the bridge of her nose and the eyelashes were long and light. This angel was the love of his life. But why was January here in a medic tent?

“January?” his voiced was raspy.

January continued with her care and retrieved sterile equipment from a nearby tray. Once she was finished wiping away the blood from Bernard’s face and began applying pressure to one of his many wounds she finally took a look at his eyes. Those brown warm eyes that she had been dreaming of for the past three years. The eyes that she saw every night before she fell asleep. The eyes that she loved so dearly.

“Bernard?”

He attempted a nod but it was difficult. “Yes.”

She looked along his body with eyes that were taking inventory on something that she held dear. Her eyes had been in a trance when she had first come to his side but now they were full of worry. She was terrified that he had already died on the battle field. But now that he was here in front of her she let tears finally fall from her eyes, the first she cried in three years.