Post by Stabsgefreiter F. Blutstein on Dec 14, 2010 1:22:16 GMT
Country: German Military Hospital
Current Time: 22:00
Weather Conditions: Cold, windy night with rain.
"No, please! My baby" "Shut up, you swine!" "My son, let me stay with my son! Please!" The laughter echoed on and on. The sound of a gun shot jolted Freidrich from his sleep. He shot up in his bed to a sitting position. Sweat was pouring from his brow. It was the same dream over and over. The horrors he had seen in concentration camps where he had passed or gone through in his earlier days. He sat in the bed for a while and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. His lips felt dry and his tongue as well. He looked at a table close to him, on the table was a clear glass. No water. He blinked a few times and laid back. He then started moving himself to the edge of the bed. He reached for his crutches, inches out of reach. He reached for them, but no luck. he sighed and gave up for a second. He then tried again. This time he pawed at them and one of them fell into his grasp. He then put it under his arm pit and moved to the edge of the bed and let his legs dangle off. He let his feet down onto the ground. A freezing chill went up through his feet into his legs. Pain also followed in his wounded leg. He grunted as he put weight on it. It felt better than it did, but was nowhere near to fully healed.
Freidrich was now on both feet with both crutches in hand supporting him. He looked at the empty glass and sighed realizing that his hands were full and he couldn't pick it up. He then thought if he could get into the hallway a doctor or nurse would see him and help him. So he made his way to the door and opened it. He was greeted by horrified looks with mouths agape. Freidrich had no idea what he looked like, and he looked terrible. His eyes were dark and had bags under them, his skin was a sick pale color, and sweat stained shirt. He looked ghostly and his voice sounded very raspy. "May...I get some water?"
Current Time: 22:00
Weather Conditions: Cold, windy night with rain.
"No, please! My baby" "Shut up, you swine!" "My son, let me stay with my son! Please!" The laughter echoed on and on. The sound of a gun shot jolted Freidrich from his sleep. He shot up in his bed to a sitting position. Sweat was pouring from his brow. It was the same dream over and over. The horrors he had seen in concentration camps where he had passed or gone through in his earlier days. He sat in the bed for a while and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. His lips felt dry and his tongue as well. He looked at a table close to him, on the table was a clear glass. No water. He blinked a few times and laid back. He then started moving himself to the edge of the bed. He reached for his crutches, inches out of reach. He reached for them, but no luck. he sighed and gave up for a second. He then tried again. This time he pawed at them and one of them fell into his grasp. He then put it under his arm pit and moved to the edge of the bed and let his legs dangle off. He let his feet down onto the ground. A freezing chill went up through his feet into his legs. Pain also followed in his wounded leg. He grunted as he put weight on it. It felt better than it did, but was nowhere near to fully healed.
Freidrich was now on both feet with both crutches in hand supporting him. He looked at the empty glass and sighed realizing that his hands were full and he couldn't pick it up. He then thought if he could get into the hallway a doctor or nurse would see him and help him. So he made his way to the door and opened it. He was greeted by horrified looks with mouths agape. Freidrich had no idea what he looked like, and he looked terrible. His eyes were dark and had bags under them, his skin was a sick pale color, and sweat stained shirt. He looked ghostly and his voice sounded very raspy. "May...I get some water?"