y

at the sound of

I realize it's the girl from the woods, conscious, alert, and roaming my house in the middle of the night. I quickly sit up, grab the ski mask, and pull it over my face.

casting on her face. Remembering the look on her face when she asked if I changed her clothing still makes me feel sick inside. I tried to be as respectful as possible and I wish I could put the memory out of

essed in my arms. I don't even know how old she is. She could be a t

ression, like she was conscious but not really all there. I'm glad I wore the itchy mask, but in her fevered state, I don't think she was truly aware of anything she saw. What little she did say during her delirium was disturbing. Though most of her words were mumbled, garbled, and at least partially Spanish, I made

fridge, which has now

d at me since the day I set foot in this cabin, only a few months after the battle that left me crippled and scarred. In my current state, I attra

all step forward and I realize she'd been pressed a

urs of the night, I may need to start wearing the mask 24/7. That thought is a rather unpleasant one. The scarred flesh the mask hides h

me with much more scrutiny than I'd like. It makes me feel more aware of my limp an

s, I lost much of the dexterity in my right hand in the explosion. I can perform simple tasks that only require the use of a stiff index finger and thumb, but not much else. The knowledge that she's watching me struggle with a task that a five-year-old could complete m

ead back to the couch. To my disappointment, she sits at

n toward her slowly, eyeing her. There's no way

determine if any spark of recognition

few moments before continuing. "I'm

week when I was out there chopping wood. Or rather, trying to chop wood. I was right-handed before the explosion. Relearning how to do everything with my left hand has been a slow and frustrating process. Chopping wood left-handed has

g away at a tree for several minutes when I felt someone watching me. I'd thought it was impossible and that I must finally be losing my mind, given the extreme statistical unlikelihood of running into another person

her back and her skin was pale, her lips nearly blue. Dried blood was visible at her temple. Even though I wasn't wearing the mask and everything inside of me was screaming that I should hide my face from her,

mask?" Her unexpected word

t?"

Why are you

mber how she got here. I feel a slight bit of disappointment. Perhaps part of me was hoping that

silent for too long. She frown

ured in Af

eels turning in her head as she tries to puzzle somethi

rica and civilians being oppressed by regimes. Like I could single-handedly fix conflicts in the Middle East if only I could shoot all the bad guys. Like glo

ing my best friend, and I saw countless civilians die.

ou come to

words as she visibly recoils. I was feeling snappish after her fi

now I was in a helicopter, but I can

ter you. Could that have

udden refusal to speak. When I didn't want to answer her ques

embering the name she asked a

rown deepening. I get the sense that this Johnston guy is definitely

a few minutes in silence. Frustrated, I t

s, her question finally sounding genui

but it only happens after solar storms

watch it

an." I'm not really that tired, but I'm irritated with her and ready for her to go

s your bed, isn't it?

. I want you to leave me alone.

alking back to the bedroom. "Thanks for

down and close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. Perhaps it's the knowledge that this girl - Ana, I guess - is awake, alert, a

sky, the image of Saph's expression twisted in horror at the sight of my face pops into my head. Glaring at nothing in particular, I throw off the blanket I've been using and sit u

in my left hand and my polishing cloth in my right, and listen. Nothing. Did I

rc

an excellent way to channel frustration into action. The itchy ski mask detracts from the therape

h think of Ana

was definitely the type to get jealous over an ex moving on. I savor the thought of her feeling betrayed, abandoned, jealous even. I feel my m