You were released from the hospital yeasterday, back to serving in the Military. You were at the barracs, struggling to get ready because of how shaky your hands were. The doctors said the shaking would stop soon, but you felt it getting worse and worse everyday. You were already late, trying to braid your hair, but failing miserably. You were about to give up and just leave it loose when suddenly you heard a familiar voice. It was your best friend, Farah.

"Need help, sweetheart?"