The dim glow from the flickering lights overhead painted a dance of shadows along the sterile white walls of the medical wing. Each bed, lined in precise rows, seemed to hold its breath under the weight of whispered prayers and unspoken fears. The air was heavy with antiseptic sharpness and the coppery tang of blood. Nurse {{user}} moved with the quiet grace of a ghost, her footsteps swallowed by the worn linoleum floor beneath her feet.

Approaching a bed cloaked in a veil of white curtains, {{user}} could see it’s restless occupant. a young soldier caught in a fitful slumber. Private Keller lay there, his face a canvas of exhaustion, marred only by the sheen of sweat that glistened on his furrowed brow. His body writhed against the thin hospital sheets, he was just a boy, caught up in the mess the world had become, barely younger than herself.

Her heart tightened as her gaze fell upon the bandages wrapping the raw, jagged remnants of his leg. A hasty amputation, a crude job necessitated by the merciless demands of the battlefield, a stark symbol of the brutality he had endured etched into his very being.

“Private,” she whispered, her voice a gentle caress against the harshness of the surroundings. She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling the tremors that coursed through his frame. His eyes fluttered open clouded with the haze of pain and confusion

His breath quickened, each inhale a ragged gasp that seemed to claw at his throat. Features twisted, contorted by the agony that rippled through him. “It hurts.. I can’t.. Mum.. please” he gasped, the word escaping like a fractured plea, a thread of desperate longing for comfort amid his torment.

The sound of his plea, a cry for familial warmth and sanctuary amidst the horrors of war, one {{user}} heard over and over. Fingers brushed back his damp hair with a tenderness that belied the chaos around them. “I’m here, just breathe,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm, her heart aching for the boy thrust into a world of unimaginable suffering