Destiny

Destiny Chapter 1

Chapter One

Five Years Later

A/N Heyyyy guysss sorry I haven't been on here to update lately but let's see how everyone likes the first chapter!  If you do, please comment and vote :)

Gunshots could be heard at the battle front.  Men were crying out and the wounded were coming to our hospital’s doorstep to be treated.  That was our purpose, to heal dying soldiers.  Our war hospital consisted of eight nurses, my sister, and me.  It was a small hospital, but we had enough knowledge and skills to treat anyone who came to us.  After our mother died in a war and our dad was captured by the Terrorists, we knew that we had to devote the rest our lives to heal those who would sacrifice their lives for our country.

For as long as I can remember, our country has been at war with Iran and their Terrorists.  Some say the war will never end, that our two countries are so different that we will never see eye-to-eye.  I believe that one day, there will be no more sorrow, and no more pain.  Right now, however, it is a different story.  The Terrorists charge with blood thirsty looks in their eyes, and the need to kill.  I do know, though, that one of those men out there fighting with the Terrorists may be my father, so I always accept Terrorists into our hospital.  I would never miss the chance to one day see my father again.

My sister, Talia, is the brightest young girl I have ever known.  She knows the names of thousands of herbs and how to make them into remedies for my patients.  She recorded each one of them in a journal that Mama gave her when she was only five years old.  She loved working with Mama in her herbal garden.  You could see the joy on her face, soaking in the knowledge her mother was giving her.  But Talia was never the same since Mama died.  She never has that same joy on her face.  She has not even said a word since that day.  I try to get her to talk sometimes but it seems like she does not have the will to do so. 

Even though she has not spoken, Talia has done wondrous works at our hospital.  She manages to get by, but I worry that she does not deal with the pain the way that she should.  Everyone at the hospital tries to help by talking to her and giving her encouraging words, but her only reply is a nod or a smile.  Maybe she thinks that Mama was the only one who truly understood her and that there is no point in trying to talk again.  Whatever I try to say to her never seems to work, so I pray that someday her emotional scars will heal and she will talk again. 

Talia and I live in a small room atop the hospital.  We barely manage to get by, because all of the donations (though few) that we get, go towards helping our patients, but they deserve it to the furthest extent.  I see so much bravery as I walk down the stairs every day to see the men and women who have risked their lives to better their country.  It tears my heart in two to have to tell devastating news on occasion like, “I’m so sorry sir, but we could not fix your leg, and you will never be able to walk again,” or “Madam? I’m so sorry I have to tell you this, but the bullet went straight through one of the main arteries of your arm, so we have to cut it off.” In those moments, seeing the looks on their faces when they hear that news is almost unbearable.  I look at them with the utmost respect when I realize what must be going through their heads in these times: “So this is my payment for protecting my country?” “Do I really deserve this after all I’ve been through?”

It makes it all worthwhile, though, when we can deliver good news.  When they can say “Hallelujah!” to the Lord because they are alive and well; that is what makes my job worth it.  It makes me feel as if this is really my purpose in life.

~  

“Hey!  I need help over here!” I shouted to whatever nurse I could find, “Give me some more gauze and put pressure right here- and don’t let up!”