Scarred Beginnings by Jackie Williams

at what was left of his legs. Could he have gone back into that burning car and calmly amputated a friend’s legs with nothing more than a hard fist as anaesthetic and a jungle knife to hand? He shuddered at the thought. It was a braver man than he who had wrapped his own and James’s belts around David’s thighs and then sawn through his knee joints, freeing him from the burning car.
    Steve had already gone back to active service and was on another tour of Afghanistan when David had eventually plucked up the courage to Skype him and thank the man for saving his life. Steve had just laughed and said that Dave would have done the same but he wasn’t sure that he could have done. He didn’t own a bloody great, well-honed jungle knife for a start and he couldn’t imagine being able to cut someone’s legs off with the little blade he normally carried.
    He snorted at the thought. S teve’s lethally sharp knife and steady hands had been what had saved him that day. The guy had been a complete hero, cutting him off at the knees and then hauling him from the car that blew up seconds later, to the helicopter that arrived through a hail of bullets. They were damned lucky no one on the enemy’s side had a rocket launcher or they would have all been done for.
    David hadn’t remembered a thing about it of course. Steve’s huge punch had fortunately knocked him into the middle of the next week. James had given him all the gory details when he arrived looking pained and thin on a pair of crutches a few weeks later. Steve had saved him too but his legs had been crushed, broken in so many places that it had been a toss up whether they should be amputated. James’s father had insisted that they remain in place until James himself could decide on anything so drastic but by the time he had woken up the surgeons had put enough metal in the man to hold up the Eiffel tower.
    D avid took a deep breath and a quick look in the mirror before heading back towards the lift. At least the scars on his face were healing. They still looked bad but most of the redness had gone leaving a patchwork of pale skin. His left eye looked a bit grim being half closed but he’d spoken to a surgeon about that and they thought it might be worth another operation. David wasn’t so sure and was thinking hard before going under the knife again. Anything they did had its own consequences and complications. He was never going to look normal again so he wasn’t sure it was worth the bother of going through the upheaval of it all. His nose was a mess too but he had a decent looking prosthetic for that if he wanted to wear it.
    He pulled his hair across his forehead to cover the web of scars there. He still looked like he’d been through a very coarse cheese grater but unless he was going to begin using a ton of the make up the rehab centre had given him there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. He was of the opinion that it was best everyone saw him at his worst right from the word go. They would then be under no illusion as to how he actually looked should it become necessary for him to go anywhere ‘unmasked.’
    He lifted his hand to press the button to open the lift doors but there was a sudden ‘ bing’ and they slid apart in front of him. A mountain of towels on slim legs began moving towards him and he yelped in surprise.
    “Watch out Ellen! I’m right in front of you.” He wheeled backwards rapidly but then stopped as the towels suddenly teetered forwards. There was no stopping them and they drifted down over his head in a breath of warm air as Ellen squealed in dismay.
    “Mon Dieu! You gave me a surprise. Pardon David. Ellen said that you ‘ad been messing about on that zip wire and you were nearly drowned. She told me that you were in the shower trying to warm up. I didn’t know if you ‘ad enough hot towels and thought to bring you some more warm ones.”
    Gera ldine’s beautiful French accent hit David with the force of a