She made me sit on the counter as she removed pieces of glass from my skin. She twisted her face whenever she was removing a piece of glass that was buried deep in my skin. But when she looked at me, I was still. She searched my face to see if I was in pain. She was confused, but continued to gently remove the pieces of glass from my bleeding hand. Chapter 16
"She took my headphones off again and asked, "How did you get these scars?" "Bullet wounds" I casually replied. Her face filled with sorrow and her voice was shaking as she spoke: "You have to tell me what happened so I can prescribe treatment" At first I was reluctant, but she said she would be able to treat me effectively only if I told her what had happened. So I told her the whole story about how I got shot, not because I really wanted to, but because I thought that if I told her some of the gruesome truth of my war years she would be afraid of me and would cease asking questions. She listened attentively when I began to talk. Her eyes glued to my face, and I bowed my head as I delved into my recent past." Chapter 17.
The most difficult part of me being in the forest was the loneliness. It became unbearble each day. One thing about being lonesome is that you think too much, especially when there isnt much else you can do. I didn't like this and I tried to stop myself from thinking, but nothing seemed to work. I decided to just ignore every thought that came into my head, because it broght too much sadness. Apart from eating and drinking water and once every other day taking a bath, I spent most of my time fighting myself mentally in order to avoid thinking about what I had seen or wondering where my life was going, where my family and friends were." Chapter 8
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