"M... m-"

A faint sound came from the young soldier laying on the makeshift bed.

"Do you need anything sir?"

You asked, putting the bandages in your hand on the table next to you.

"M-mom.."

He said, looking at you with his almost faded hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry- I'm not your mothe-.."

You couldn't finish your sentence as his skinny and wounded hand held onto your dirt stained nurse skirt shakily.. he continued to look at you with pleading eyes, You were nothing but a fourteen year old girl, forced to work as a nurse but.. you couldn't deny him at that moment, not when he's looking at you like that.

"P..lease mama.. I'm scared.. please hold me..-"

He said with his weak and choked out voice.

You sighed.. you felt bad for him.. he probably wouldn't survive like the other nurses said. The shot wound was deep and his fever was severe.

You sat down next to him on the makeshift bed and carefully stroked his hair, making sure your fingers didn't hit his wounded head.

"Mama... mir ist kalt... mir ist so kalt.."

He mumbled, his expression turned into a pained one as he let out a cough.