My dear friend, blogging buddy, pen pal, and soul sister, Laura Beth, author of Hot Shot Headlines shared a prompt about fall leaves and asked us to participate if we wished. The only rule is to write about fall leaves so I thought I would give it a shot.
You can read the original prompt that Laura Beth created below:
John laid on the wet ground, his blood spilling on the moss and fallen leaves, mixing with the morning dew that still remained on the battleground.
He looked up and noticed the sun reflecting in a single raindrop holding on for dear life next to a yellow leaf, the combination reminded him of golden honey, and how he longed for the sweet taste upon his lips as he awaited his untimely death.
He would slip out of consciousness only to be revived by the cold, November wind nipping his skin. He held his breath, praying for God to take him, and he closed his eyes until his memories slipped away.
John wasn’t sure how much time had passed or how he even got onto the streets of Washington DC, but once again, he was caught in the rain, and once again looking at the light reflecting in raindrops, only this time illuminated by city lights instead of the sun, but he had no memories of that time on the battleground. He walked with his head down low, thinking about his life and the look of sadness in his mother’s eyes as he kissed her goodbye, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why she had been crying. That was the last thing he could remember. He was so confused and was feeling lost, he didn’t even know what day it was. Hell, he didn’t even know what year it was. All he knew was that it was winter, judging by the snow that had dusted the ground.
He continued walking aimlessly until he found himself standing in front of the Washington DC VA Medical Center. He walked on in and noticed that no one was really paying attention to him, he found it strange that no one asked him where he was going or what he was doing there, but he kept on walking. He wasn’t sure where he was going or why he was even there, but he felt some kind of irresistible pull and before he knew it he found himself taking the stairs down to the basement. He always preferred the stairs to the elevator.
At the bottom of the stairs was a door with a tinted window, and he stood in front of it, trying to listen to the muffled voices behind it, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to eavesdrop on their conversations, but something inside of him knew he had to get on the other side of that door. Just then the door swung open, and he held his breath waiting to be reprimanded for wandering around an area he wasn’t supposed to.
He opened his eyes after he heard the sounds of footsteps and hushed voices walking up the stairs. How could they have gotten passed me? He wondered. Did they not see me? It was as if they had walked right through him.
The room was empty except for a body lying under a white sheet on a cold, metal table. He walked closer to the body, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach, and bile rising in his throat, did he really want to uncover that body and see who was lying beneath the sheet?
He held another breath as he slowly peeled the sheet back to reveal the biggest shock of his life. Never would he had imagined that the body belonged to none other than himself. A look of horror etched across his face as he noticed he had no arms or legs, and he began trembling with fear at the sight of the wound on his temple.
I must be dead, he thought to himself, but when he noticed the machine pumping medicine into his torso, where his right arm should be, he knew he was very much alive.
*This is an excerpt from a new story I am writing that I have decided to turn into a book. This story came to me while listening to “One” by Metallica. They based this song off of the movie “Johnny Got His Gun.”
I hope you enjoyed reading this. I am really excited to write John’s story!
Love & life lessons,