The old wooden floor creaked underfoot as Brady made her way down the hall. The bags under her eyes drooped heavily and her achy bones barely got her up the stairs. She made it to her bed, however, and dropped onto the mattress. She engulfed herself in the silk sheets, and slowly drifted off into peaceful slumber.
There he was, lying still on top of a very small bed. The bedding was crisp and white, not bothered by this stiff body. Breaths and mutters filled the stuffy air. The man could barely move, but his eyes showed all of his emotions. They moved back and forth, up and down, worried and confused. He was still in his military uniform; He must have forgotten to take it off after his return from the hospital. Propped up on the bedside table was his army identification card. It read: "Hans Zimmer, Infantry Unit # 41". His body seemed so old and used. It looked like a child's toy that had been fooled around with for too many years. Underneath the creme bed sheets was a secret. A secret that Hans was hiding from his family, the world, but most of all, himself.
The sunlight shone through a crack in window blinds. Brady's eyes opened reluctantly as she turned her head to the clock. 7:41 AM. She sighed, pulled the duvet cover atop her head and relaxed once again.
Her body stretched out as she awoke slowly. Brady licked her lips and expanded her sore knuckles. Her sleep had been short and non-fulfilling, and she longed for a more serene rest. Perhaps the following evening would assure her more shut-eye. With positive thoughts in mind, Brady rose from her bed and smiled. Her beautiful April day had just begun.