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The beam of bright Corrosive light shot through the air and slammed into Breanna, knocking her to the ground appearing to be dead. Most people, describe this moment as in slow motion but for me, this was just moving way too fast. “NO BRE!!” I screamed. I scrambled to get to her “no, no, no, no, no, no, not Breanna, please.” I frantically whispered to myself. I lifted her body, holding it close to mine. Then, I heard her. Her heart. She was still alive! I started to cry with relief but then it sunk in; she needed help. With the last of my strength, I lifted her off the burned ground and started running looking for a medic or a hospital tent. I didn’t notice at the time but I was lucky, the beams from enemy cannons and guns were like a flurry of burning light all around me. It's a wonder I never got hit, one or two flying a little too close, burning me or singeing my clothing but none ever actually hitting me. I guess you could call it a miracle but I never really took the time to appreciate that miracle until way later into my life.
Two weeks later the war was finally over, they told me we had won. What they didn’t know is that the war in our minds was far from over. Kind of silly if you think about it now considering how obvious it was.
I awoke from my nap of flashbacks to see Bre, still asleep. More like a coma but nobody was willing to tell me that, not without feeling like they’d done me some type of wrong, as if telling me that she might never wake up would break me. I am a Captain, a soldier! I've seen worse, I told myself, trying to convince myself that this was nothing. It's been two weeks of her “asleep” without waking, of course I'd figure it out. This was a blessing in disguise, why? Because this gave me the chance to figure out how to tell Bre when she wakes up, that she is paralyzed and will never be able to walk again, let alone fight for her people again. She'd be heartbroken and I knew it.
A month later, we had to move back home and off the military base so I had Bre transferred to the hospital near our home with me. She was still in a coma. Getting a side job while working for the military was surprisingly hard, the military promised us benefits, honor, and glory for serving for our country but we barely even got that. I was transferred to an office job at the military base near the hospital. I was able to do part-time retail work as my second job to bring in extra money for the hospital bills. I visited the hospital whenever I had free time, hanging out in an empty house just doesn’t seem to cut it. a little too quiet, it felt suffocating.
I arrive outside the hospital and start my way up the different flights of stairs adding up to nearly 150 steps to visit Breanna. “Captain Loran! Ma’am!!” I came out of my thoughts to see a nurse, nurse Kate to be exact, I had gotten to know most of the nurses and doctors on this floor and practically the entire building as the days, turning into weeks had gone by.
“Kate, What’s wrong?”
"It's Miss Breanna, Ma’am!! She just woke up! I was about to call for you!”
My eyes widened and I ran. My eyes, watching the hall for her room number as I ran by, my heart was pounding out of my chest, she was finally awake after so long. Once I arrived at her room I froze in front of the door. Pushing back my fears of her forgetting me or something worse, I opened the door. I stopped dead in my tracks, there she was across the room in her bed awake and wide eyed. I didn’t know at the time but it had been nearly 20 minutes since she was awake and waking up with a tube down your throat is not the greatest of ways to be greeted into the waking world with. that traumatized her years later. It was like every last emotion that I have ever felt in my entire life was bottled up. And then just like that, it all released like a dam and I immediately burst into tears stumbling over to her, I grabbed her hand, bringing it to my face, too afraid to hug her without knowing if she would feel pain as a result. This just felt like too much. Like I'd explode or maybe melt from the emotions of relief and sadness. But finally, she's awake. My other half is home.
Breanna looked at me, happy but confused and scared. She had awoken in a hospital surrounded by nurses and doctors and she had many questions like ‘Where am I?’ ‘Who are these people?’ ‘Wheres Loran?’ ‘Why can't I feel my legs?’ ‘Why does everything ich?’ ‘Why does my throat hurt so much?’. All of these questions and no answers. She did know what made her feel more panicky not having those answers or not. She wanted to rip all the badges off. She felt overwhelmed and itchy.
“I missed you so much, I thought you’d never wake up!” I said, wiping my tears. “Loran, What happened? Where am I? How long have I been asleep?” I start to stutter while trying to find the right words to say. It's like all the words I had prepared and memorized days prior were gone, my mind became a blank sheet of paper. “Loran.” Breanna’s voice trembles “why can't I feel my legs?”. The many ways people have described their heart breaking or falling apart could never compare to this feeling after hearing her say that.
Two long months later. I could finally take Breanna back to our home. I had finished renovating the house to make it accessible for her before I could bring her home. The place was very dusty and lonely when I first came back from the war. Before the war Bre and I had put everything that was in this house in storage, so it took me quite a bit of time to get it all out and in the house not to mention cleaning it and organizing it all. I never realized how much needed to change to make things accessible, I do have to say it was fun trying to find things that I thought would make her happy. After I found places for everything, I spent most of my time decorating. She loves purple, I love yellow. She and I both love dogs, She likes chrysanthemums, I like lilies, she always loved the warm yellow string lights. I made it my mission to fill the house with as many of those comforting things as possible. I wanted her to feel happy… and safe. After I told her what happened to her and the world while she was in her coma, I ignored it but she closed off and became quiet and reclusive. I had decided without realizing it at the time that I would talk enough for the both of us and I wanted to think that most of her quietness had to do with being in bed and in the hospital all the time so I just need to hurry up and get her home. That’ll make it all better, right? But finally, the day came, I had finished fixing up the house and it was time to check Breanna out of the hospital.
We didn’t have a car so I helped Breanna into her very own wheelchair and walked her home which was a little ways away but it didn’t bother me and I don't think it seemed to bother Bre very much either. It felt nice being with her and to just leisurely walk with her. I like to imagine us as old ladies walking along together, growing old together. Just being together. I smile thinking about it. I look towards her “hey Bre?” Silence. “have you ever wanted to grow old with someone?” she is silent for a few moments before she hums a yes in response, it seemed a little half-hearted. I smile but it then collapses, I’m suddenly reminded that she still has not said a word in nearly months since she awakened from her coma. It makes my heart ache. When was the last time that I had heard her voice?
We were finally home. I briefly leave her side to open the door and then walk back to wheel her in, leaving her sideways looking towards the living room. I turned around to close the door and then turned back. Never had I seen someone look so lost in their own home before.
“Bre?” She doesn’t reply, not even a hum, she just...stares. Me, not knowing what to do, I just start pointing out the things that I got her around the house, pretty much rambling at this point.
“I- uh- oh! Bre, look! So I know how much you like purple so I got you a few purple-themed things like this!” I point towards little nicknacks of animals and things painted in accented purple. Some I made by hand with wood. “I know they look kind of shitty looking but I plan on practicing and I thought you'd love them.” I said grinning.
She moved herself forward… slowly. That was the first time she had moved on her own in a while so it surprised me and gave me a bit of hope for the future.
I became a bit excited from the movement. I begin pointing out and explaining as many of the things I got her as I could. I pointed out the string lights, they emitted a warm yellow glow that made me think of fairies swooshing and flying in the night. When I brought everything back from storage to the house it started to feel full again like the living room, it had a fireplace with a mantel so I put pictures of us, her mother, her brother, and my father on it. I had placed our sofa diagonally facing the fireplace with its matching armchair across the room making sure that there is plenty of space to move in between. I had placed plants anywhere they could thrive, practically everywhere. I repainted the house to bring more color to it, so the living room once being a light orange was now a shade of light blue. While I had been rambling on about everything in the living room Bre was slowly moving around the room, it didn’t register in my mind at the time that she was moving on her own at that point. Breanna seemed to be in a trance. Running her hands across the leaves of one of the plants or picking up one of the handmade nicknacks to most likely admire it. This went on for a while as we passed from the living room to the kitchen to the hallway to the bathroom to the office to finally the bedroom. I want to do everything for her so I attempted to do exactly that. This is when it registers that she has been listening and following me around the house. how did I not notice that?
CRASH! And then the sound of a body tumbling to the ground follows. Panic rose up in my heart and I whipped around to see my love on the floor, wheelchair on top of her and one of the pictures of us shattered on the floor beside her. “Oh god, Bre! Are you ok?! What happened?!” I said as I picked the wheelchair off of her legs. It hit me, she probably, without thinking reached for one of the pictures and fell as a result. “Bre! You can't be doing that! Ask for help!”.
“What, doing things for myself?” my eyes go wide. She’s spoken.
“That's not what I meant.”
She goes silent again.
“Help me up.”
I picked her up but I didn't put her in the wheelchair. Instead, I walk over to the kitchen and place her in a chair at the little dining table and kneel in front of her. “Breanna.” she has been looking at the floor avoiding my eyes. I had noticed that she had been doing that a lot lately. “Bre? Please just let me help you.” and that's all it took for her to break down.
“I just want to do things for myself! I used to be so dependable and strong!” she wailed
All I could do is hold her and listen as my heart broke in response to her own heartache.
Later that night I made us dinner and then helped her to bed and we went to sleep. But as life would have it I couldn't sleep… again. I stared up at the ceiling thinking when I heard a whimper from beside me I looked to my left and I saw Bre’s eyebrows knitted together as she whimpers and mumbles about something in her sleep before suddenly she starts screaming. I jump her scream reminding me of- things. I immediately start to wake her up. “Bre! Love! Wake up! Wake up!” I said grabbing her arm before shaking her. She jolts awake, staring past me in shock before crying and hard. I hug her trying to comfort her and she just grabs on to my shirt and sobs. “It's ok, just cry it out, love.” Later that night I realized that I had started to cry with her.
A few weeks nearly a month go by, and I am told I need to come back to work.
“Bre, are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself?”
“Yes, Loran, I'll be fine. I'm fairly sure I've gotten the hang of moving around the house and taking care of myself. Please go to work.”
“But what if-”
“Ok enough of that we need the money and it's time you got out of the house.”
“But-” I am interpreted with a look that tells me 'if you don't stop it imma strangle you’ so I immediately grab my things and kiss her goodbye.
“Bye my love, see you this evening!”
“Stay safe!”
God, I am so blessed to have her.
I didn’t know it at the time but this is when she started training.
Every day that I was gone at work she would train her arms. She did this every day for at least two hours. She set up a chair next to the wall across from the kitchen counter and practiced lifting herself, this was only after she was able to lift herself in the chair. She wanted to be “strong’ again and this was the only way for her to do it she had told herself.