The Citizen Soldier (DNF)

11) Bad Examples

Trigger Warning: Referenced S/H throughout the chapter

*George POV*

I stormed off without even letting him reply. When I looked back he was collecting the fish off the pile and getting ready to cook it. And I ran into the woods like an idiot. Well, run is a graceful word. It was more like speed walking as fast as someone could with a hurt foot. Which made for a pretty interesting-looking and quite painful hobble out of the camp.

Once I got far enough away, I rolled up my sleeves and looked at those scars again. Those damned scars that would be there forever. I knew already that I had just ruined any chances that I possibly had with that beautiful, wonderful boy. I cried at nothing, looking at the sky and wiping my eyes with my sleeves. After I calmed down a bit I looked back at my arms and just let myself remember happier days. Happier days with my friends who left me and my older sister who did the same. I knew that that was when I first started to acquire these scars in the first place.

I knew that I was bisexual, sure. I didn't pick up on the signs fast enough unfortunately and my crush decided that life became a burden. I was broken so badly. And my other friends saw. They wanted me to feel better but they didn't know how to help, even when they found the scars. Me and my bad coping habits became an example to them, and they started to mangle their arms up sometimes too. I didn't like it at all, and it was hard to keep any emotions from showing. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. There was that ever-persistent thought.

Why did he do it? Why did he die? Is it nicer?

It was a sick and twisted chain of thoughts, and yet they were mine. But I was too scared. So the idea kept twisting around and growing in my head no matter how hard I tried to keep them at bay. I used to try everything that there was, but I couldn't block out the thoughts nor could I go through with it. Then my sister and I lost our dad in the hospital from surgery and she followed my crush's example and she threw herself off a building. To me that sounded painful.

I didn't even get a letter or the chance to say goodbye and so I turned back to the thin, sharp, cold piece of metal that had already fucked us all up. I let myself get lost in it once, and I looked at those scars in particular. My arms were shredded and they had to be sewn back together, but it's incredible what the human body can do.

My arm had fully recovered within two and a half months, and though it would probably be advised to keep the bandages on, I decided to have them off. They still itched to this day.

Looking at them made me feel sick and unwanted. So I stopped looking at them and instead looked in the other direction, where there just happened to be a little next for some sort of creature, probably a beaver or something of the like. I then turned my tear-filled gaze to the floor and brought my knees to my chest ever so slowly. I buried my face in my knees and I started to sob into them.

I couldn't control my breathing or the sick feeling in my stomach, and it ached. My chest somehow only ached worse at the thought of losing Clay to the thoughts that he must have, that I've experienced but never had the will to go through with. It stung so bad that I felt like throwing up again.

I stood, walked a few steps away, halved over, and retched. I hated the feeling, I hated the taste. Bitter and rotten, unnatural and painful, I couldn't keep my food down where it belonged and now I was suffering for it, suffocating in my own self misery.

I knew that it could only make me sicker so I returned to my spot and gave myself a good cry. That's when I looked up and I noticed that it was getting far too dark for my own comfort, so I stood and started hobbling back to camp, except I didn't, because my ankle twisted and I crashed to the ground and clutched it. I screamed in pain through gritted teeth and more tears if it were possible sprang from my eyes. My breathing went uneven again and I felt my head throb in pain from the sudden killer feeling. I was almost going to say it were broken if I didn't know for a fact that it wasn't.

I pushed myself up to my feet as best I could but again when I went to take that step I twisted my ankle and I really didn't want to get it any worse at this point.so I resorted to using my hands and knees like the good child that I felt like inside. I gave myself an internal pep talk before gathering the strength that it took to get up on my knees. Opening my eyes, I scanned my surroundings for imminent danger.

When I determined that there was none I started to crawl, ever so slowly, back to the place I knew the camp would be. My hands were still shaky as ever as I crawled back to the camp and after a very painful ten minutes I heard a low growl from the trees and I froze in place. I recognized that growl, and it wasn't good. That was a wolf, and where there's one wolf there are many. My breathing became shallow and short, but most importantly it became virtually silent.

I barely even twitched a muscle as I heard shuffling about in the bushes, the growling growing louder on occasion. It sounded like they were circling me and making sure that I wasn't going to run. Then the wolves went completely silent. There was more shuffling around in the bushes that sounded like it was bad. Then a full-sized adult wolf crashed out of the bushes and landed in front of me, likely sensing my weakness and smelling my blood.

She walked up and stood right in front of my face, and I could feel her hot, sticky breath coat my neck. I couldn't hide my fear from the beast; I was facing death right in the eye. I tried my best to keep my composure and swallowed. My chest gently rose and fell as I did my best to keep my breathing even and in turn calm myself down. I closed my eyes and pretended that I was not in this situation, and I was instead with my family around the table with a Thanksgiving dinner, and we were laughing and having fun together.

By some odd miracle, it seemed to work the slightest bit, until I opened my eyes and saw some yellow ones staring right back at me with animalistic fury in them.