Ell

              Ell drew in a deep breath. She exhaled. She didn’t know how much more she could take. Her eyes started to water, as Ell turned to her wooden bedside. She had to sleep before the next call.

              One hundred and fifty persons down with influenza. It was taking its tole on the only nurse in town. Not only was she the lone caretaker of the village, but also she was young, much too young and inexperienced for this kind of epidemic.

              Rest. She needed rest. Two days with little sleep and tons of activity had worn her to pieces. She plopped on the bed.

              The three hours of sleep seemed less than five minutes when Ell was awoken by someone. Hanner, Ell’s matronly friend, stood tapping on her shoulder.

              “I didn’t want to wake you, but Grandfa Perny is not doing well. They say he is about to pass.”

              Ell jerked out of bed. “Not Grandfa. Tell whoever sent you that I’ll be down in a minute.”

              Hanner left the room. Ell slipped on her tight nursing dress and grabbed her tools.

              In ten minutes, she was hovering over the elderly man, who had shown her so much kindness over the years. He had practically adopted her when she was orphaned at ten. He was like a surrogate father to her. He even paid for her nursing training in Elderingber. Now, she could not believe that he was dying.

              Grandfa didn’t say anything. The only thing that assured her that he was still alive was the pleasant recognition registering in his eyes.

              “Grandfa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t imagine it would hit you so hard.” She murmured more to herself than him. She turned to Grandfa’s aid and said, “Would you mind bringing me so water. He’s burning with fever.”

              Ell took from her bag a sterile rag to wipe his sweaty face.

              “Ell.” Grandfa’s uttered.

              “Yes.”

              “I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer.” He rasped. “I’ve lived a long life. Eighty years. I am only sorry to leave you.”

              “Oh, Grandfa, I’m sure you’ll make it. I stay here. You’ll be okay.” She practically pleaded.

              “No, Ell. I don’t… think… so. Just remember that I love you.” He closed his eyes. “Stay true.”

              He said no more. Ell felt his pulse. It was beating but faintly. She knew it wouldn’t be long. If there was no will to be alive, death arrived quickly. She sighed again, tears in her eyes.

              Before the hour was over, Grandfa had left his body for a greater place.

              Ell tried to hold it together as she walked home. Alone. In the dark. With grief gripping her soul.

              She took another breath. How was she supposed to keep this up? It was the third death she had witnessed in the last twenty-four hours.

              She remembered what one of her professors at Elderingber had told her. You’ll see so many things. The only way to not be destroyed by it is to let it go. Cry. Weep. Rage. Whatever is your way of dispensing your feelings, you must do or else you’ll be waging two battles. And two battles will kill twice as fast. Ell’s tears slowly increased to a weep.

              Before she knew it, she had already fled past Hanner’s inn, which was on the edge of Forest Nightwolf.

              Absolutely exhausted, Ell fell to the floor of the woods, her weeping slowing.

              “Aba, I don’t think I can do this any longer.” She spoke to her Maker. “There’s too much death. Too much sorrow. Too much…” 

              Once she had composed herself, she headed back to Hanner’s to get some needed rest.