I found myself standing in the middle of an large white tent, filled with gurneys. What ever time this was, it was hot. And I was in heinous blue wool-like dress...you do the math.
"Hey buddy, how was the sixteenth century?" came from behind me.
"Hey Ja-..Kevin. It was...sixteen-ish. I guess," I said.
I walked over to Kevin and sat down on the uncomfortable gurney next to him.
"Never send back there. It was like...Romeo and Juliet gone wrong," I said.
"Hey, I don't choose where you go. You kinda just like drop somewhere," Kevin explained.
I gave him a 'Do you even know what you're doing look?'.
"What!? This is my first time as a Time Guide, it was either this or the Tooth Fairy's assistant," Kevin said.
I continued to look at him...Jason had more I.Q. than this guy...and they are the same people!
"The Tooth Fairy doesn't have an assistant, you were supposed to laugh. You know, a joke," Kevin murmured.
"Where am I?" I asked, trying to get away from tooth thieves.
The ground trembled a bit. I could hear men yell from the outside.
"Welcome to 1862," Kevin answered enthusiastically.
"Its the Civil War isn't it," I lamely stated.
"Yes, and you are Mitchie Torres, field nurse,"
"Nurse. Civil War," I repeated.
"Exactly, so you know the drill, see when when you're done," Kevin said.
And he's gone.
Great. Just fantastic, now if i can get in and out of here with out getting blown up or anything it'll be a miracle.
The cloth walls of the tent blew in the wind...er...from the cannon ball. Which meant it was particularly close.
I'm going to die.
I tore the white bonnet of my head, stuffing it in the pocket of my...apron. Stylish, isn't it. I took the liberty of leaving the empty, humid tent. Walking out, I almost got trampled by soldiers dresses in blue.
"Hey!" I yelled.
But no one bothered to look back. Off to battle, I guess. Once, again I was pushed aside by two men in blue, carrying someone on a stretcher.
Is this, 'Push Mitchie aside day' or something?
The men entered the tent and I followed close behind. The dumped the guy on the stretcher on a bed and ran out. The man on the bed, was merely tossed onto the bed and lay face down.
Geez, way to leave your fellow man in pain in some tent with a cluless nurse.
"Help," he whimpered, his small voice filled with agony and despair.
"Hello," I said, attempting to lay him on his back my rolling him over.
I almost had him flipped over, until...
"STOP! It hurts," he groaned.
"Where?" I asked.
"Shoulder," he breathed, beforing realising a gasp of pain.
What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't move him.
"Please, help," he muttered.
"O-okay. I have to turn you around. And it's going to hurt, but its the only w-,"
"Dammit! Just do what you must!" he yelled.
I again, attempted to roll him over. As I almost flipped him, he groaned loudly. Finally, he lay on his back.
The place where he previouly lay, was not stained dark red. I looked at his right shoulder. Torn blue fabric and some exposed flesh. He'd been shot.
"Are you alright!" I exclaimed.
"Are you mad?! Do I look alright?!"
"Sorry," I murmured, reaching up and taking of his hat.
I brushed away the long hair covering his eyes and face.
"Dash it all! Will you please get me some help!"
Instead of responding, I ran out of the tent. I stopped outside. Where was I supposed to get help?...Oh, another nurses tent. Duh.
Running to the nearest tent, I rushed inside. Grabbing the first nurse I could find and began dragging her to the other tent. Luckily she wasn't attending to anyone.
"Where are we going!?" The nurse asked.
"Shane's hurt," I said, looking back at the nurse.
Even if her hair was under the yellow-ish bonnet, I could tell it was Caitlyn.
We entered the tent, practically silent except the sound of Shane's whimpers.
"Oh my lord," Caitlyn said, examining Shane shoulder.
"What? What?! Is he going to be okay?"
Caitlyn rolled her eys as she took of Shane's blue uniform shirt.
"He'll be fine," she said, "We just got to get the bullet out,".
"Out. As in, get in...then out?" I asked.
Is she insane? There's a...I can't do that! Can she?
"Yes. Mitchie what is wrong with you? You are acting like fresh meat out here," Caitlyn said.
She began grabbing things from a table near by. Bandages, a bottle of clear liquid...and some thing that looked a lot like, pliers.
"Here," Caialtyn said, handing me the plier like object.
"What do you expect me to do with that?!"
"Take out the bullet,"
Caitlyn huffed and put them in my hand. I took a look at them then back at Shane. His eyes shut tight, teeth clenched.
I edged closer to the bed...about to do this, thing.
I felt the urge to vomit, there is no way I can do this. I'm no doctor...or nurse.
"O-okay," I whispered.
Shane opened his eyes and stared at me with a pleading look in his warm brown eyes.
I was ready...until.
Next thing I know, I'm waking up on a gurney. Sitting up, I saw Shane lying down. White bandages around his chest and shoulder. I got off the bed, only to have to sit back down. I was dizzy and had a massive head ache.
"What happened?" I murmured.
"You passed out," Shane answered.
"Why is a weak hearted girl like you doing out here. This is war," Shane said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Well I guess this Shane is a total jerk.
"I know that,"
"Well than why are you here?"
I have no clue.
Maria: The Civil War...what could possibly go wrong?...If we're writing it...well, alot. So most of you know I am being like stalked by some flamer. I'm perfectly ok with them flaming my stories, but flaming ones that i work on with my co-writers is not acceptable for me. This story has been flamed also. So...who ever you stop, leave the the eff alone. :D Review. I'm bipolar don't mind me.
Alyssa: I like this chapter, don't you people? And whoever is flaming Mya, get the hell outta here. Seriously, wtf do you care what she does? Review people!
Austen: Yeah...review. Review, as in don't flame the hard work we put into our stories.
Angie: Yeah, what Austen said.
.............We have spoken............Maria out.