I was 22 years old the first time I died. I remember there was white everywhere. There was war, and I felt alive. But, really, I was dead.

A male medic asked, "So how old?" A female medic replied, "Twenty-Two. Here he is. Larrson, Tord. Born in Norway. Hasn't got a family listed."

"Naval hospital will take care of it." The male medic said as he moved on to the others.

"Oh, my God. This soldier's alive. This man just blinked." The female medic said, looking back at the other medic. The male medic scoffed, "Been tagged already. Worry about the others."

"No, no, look at this." The female medic snapped her fingers in front of Tord's face and he flinched.

"Oh, shit. Code blue, code blue. We need a doctor! Get a doctor over here now!" The male medic said as he ran out of the tent, getting a doctor.

"Sergeant Larrson was very lucky. A little more to the right, it wouldn't have come out."

"He has retrograde amnesia, acute psychological suppression."

"We couldn't find any family... in the States, sergeant. I'm sure you have friends."

"I want the paperwork this afternoon."

"Get him on the next flight out of here."

"Yes, sir."

"He's recommended you for the Bronze Star, sergeant."

"There is help for you, sergeant."

"Of course there is... Of course there is." Tord scoffed before whispering the last part.

Tord had been walking for a while, no one was in sight until he saw a car on the side of the road. He walked up to them, "You guys all right?" An eight year old boy spoke up, "Our car won't start." Tord pointed at the lady sitting in the snow, "That's your mom?" The boy nodded, "Yeah."

"What's your mom's name?" He looked a little hesitant, "...Rachel." Tord walked over and knelt down to Rachel's level, gently lifting her head so she was looking at him, "Hey, Rachel. Can you hear me? Can you wake up? I need you to try and stay awake." Rachel groaned, "Oh, God." Tord turned to the young boy, "Your mom taking anything?" He didn't say anything, he just looked down at the ground, "What's your name?"

"...Thomas but you can call me Tom." Tom held his hand out, Tord shook it, "Nice to meet you, Tom. Tell you what. Why don't you do this. Wrap it around yourself... and you try and keep your mom awake, and I'll go work on your car. All right?" Tom nodded, "Okay."

"Oh, God. No. Oh, no..." Rachel groaned as she got up and threw-up in the woods. Tord glanced over his shoulder and saw her get sick. He sighed and turned to look at Tom, smiling, "What do you think of all this snow?" Tom sighed, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He chuckled a little before Tom asked him, " What are these?" Tom was holding his dog tags he had when he was in the Army, "Those are dog tags. See, they got the name and the date of birth on them." Tord showed him.

"What for?" Tord smiled, "In case I get lost... or can't remember who I am." Tom asked, "Can I have them?" He smiled before ruffling his hair, "Yeah, you can have them." Tom smiled the cutest, happiest smile ever, "Thanks."

Tord looked up at the car, "You think you can reach the ignition? Go ahead and give it a shot. Just keep turnin, all right?" He put his hand in the car carefully, moving the piece that was causing the car not to go, "Keep going." Tom hopped out of the front seat, "It works." Tom hugged him, he hugged back and patted Tom's head.

"Hey, get your fucking hands off... Get your fucking hands off my son. Get your fucking hands off my son." Rachel shouted at Tord. He let Tom go and Tom smiled at his mother, "Mom, he fixed our car."

"Thomas, get in that car. Now!" She snapped at him. Tom repeated himself, tears starting in his eyes, "Mom. He fixed the car." She snapped at him again but more agressive, "Get in the damn car!"