Draw

When I woke, Reuben and Zuriel were sitting in two chairs beside the bed I was now in, muttering back and forth. There was a third empty chair, and it's presence was explained when Lark walked in with coffee for the boys. She immediately noticed I was awake and set down the cups on a table by the door. Hurrying to my bedside, Lark asked worriedly, How are you feeling?
I sat up slowly as Reuben looked up and Zuriel whipped his head around.
Better, I said. Reuben and Zuriel were both at my side before I could even blink.
Are you okay?
Does anything hurt?
Are you sure you're okay?
Do you need pain medication?
Are you hungry?
Are you thirsty?
Would you like some food?
Do you need some water?
Lark laughed. Calm down, boys, don't overwhelm her.
I giggled.
Only after I had a decent meal and three glasses of water was Lark satisfied. Afterwards she proceeded to French braid my hair before giving me paper and colored pencils.
I spent a lot of my time in the hospital drawing, and eventually Zuriel and Reuben joined me. Lark said she wasn't a good artist, but a lot of days she would hang out with us and play fiddle.
When I was released a week later, I kept drawing, and Reuben graciously hung the pictures up in the hallway for me. I hope someday when I'm gone, for I will go soon, others will draw some kind of emotion or inspiration from my drawings.
That's why I draw.
Anyways, they're closing in, I can feel it.
I can't wait until we go to battle. I just want to get my death done and over with.
Oh, hurry up world! I've been waiting for ages!
I sighed.
That was when the first explosion happened.
Finally, I muttered, grabbing my weapons.
Alright, the commander, named Ryan, hollered. Let's go kick some capitol ass!