𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917

18. WORDS OF REGRET

" Why won't you ever be the first one to break? "

-

HER GAZE WAS BLANK. There was nothing there, yet she kept staring straight forward into the empty space. The sound around her being the only thing that kept her from disappearing into her own imaginary world.

Jo was wrapping the wound of yet another soldier. She didn't know anything about him. She hadn't asked.

He tried to talk to her, but it was all in vain.

It had been a day since the letter. A painfully long one full of nothing but emptiness. If only it was as easy as some made it out to be.

Her eyebrows laid furrowed on her forehead and her mouth was formed into a straight line.

Everything felt worthless.

If she couldn't live for him, then why would she do this?
She asked herself too many questions. Questions that contained too many answers.
And these answers just didn't feel like the right ones.

The soldier seemed to give up on his attempts for a conversation starter while Jo continued on the binding of his wound. She was avoiding his seeking gaze which she felt upon herself, knowing that she would lose it if she met his eyes.

After a couple of minutes of silence, she barely heard the echoing mumble of a voice. Almost like her head was inside an empty room where the noise came from outside.
She turned her head slowly and watched the silhouette of a woman.

Mrs. Mary had her head turned to the side and her arms crossed over her chest. With the ability to make people turn their heads at her and exchange glances.
Jo's hand stopped in their position, holding onto the bandage she was about to place upon the soldier's arm.

"Pardon?"

Her voice came off deadly quiet. Softly, still, her throat aching at the unfamiliar gesture.

Mrs. Mary stared with a contempt look upon her aged face.

"I asked if I could have a word with you," she said, not blinking once.
Jo's lips were parted as she watched the woman for a couple of long seconds.

"Eh-" she put down the bandage, her eyes flickering over to the soldier and then immediately back.

"Of course".

She followed the woman, not too far away, and stopped. Mrs. Mary sighed and placed her hands on her hips.

"What's going on?"

Jo blinked.

"What?" she spoke as quietly as before.

Mrs. Mary took a step forward, lowering her head and sortering her gaze.
"Is it that time of the month?"

"No-" the nurse was quick to answer, looking down at the ground and pursing her lips. "It's..." she exhaled through her nose.

"It's nothing."

That wasn't true.
You had to be dumb to believe that.
Jo was in pain. She was grieving.

But in someone else's ears, that and 'nothing' may have had the same value- so Jo would rather save her tears for another time.

And like that; Josephine was left alone once again. The only thing she had gotten out of it was an unconvinced look from a woman that didn't care for her.

Either way; she turned back to the soldier and stared at him for a couple seconds.

It's nothing, she thought. It's really nothing.