I buried my head in my bloodstained hands, trying to escape the misery. Groans and cries of pain leaked from every inch of the room. I covered my ears. Nothing I did seemed to help the ever-growing occupancy of this makeshift resistance hospital, otherwise known as, "Emerald Station". We were running low on water and supplies, and none of the surgical tools I used were clean. Why was I chosen to be the head doctor here? I was only an intern at a convalescent home before all of this started, I just stood on the sidelines and comforted the patients.

"Sir. Sir! Bed 11 has developed internal bleeding, we need action now! She has coughed up immense amounts of blood. The last search party brought back two vials and one morph syringe. Do I administer?"

I looked up. One of my assistants stood in front of me. "You know burying your head in your hands out of hopelessness doesn't improve morale. You need to be out there, reassuring people."

I shot up off of my chair, knocking it to the ground. The two other rebels helping in the hospital stared at me. "What do you want from me? Do you think I have all the answers? Do you think I can...I can just wave my hand and everything will be just fine and dandy? Shit!" I kicked the chair. Everyone went silent. I sighed.

"Is bed 11 conscious?" I glanced toward an older woman lying on a mattress. Her eyes were wide open with fear, her mattress stained with deep red blood. I walked toward her. A crudely-dressed wound sat over her lung.

"Blink once for yes and twice for no. Are you at a higher rank than corporal?" Two blinks. "Are you menopausal?" One blink. "Are you a widow?" One blink.

My assistant groaned. When we were overwhelmed with higher-ranking rebels with bad injuries and had so few supplies, the only choice would be to put the less important patients to death. Importance was judged on rank and the capability to reproduce.

Even though it was still impossible for humans to have babies, the rebellion leaders were optimistic that we would defeat the Combine. If that day were to come in our lifetime, we would need people to carry on the human race. This woman had served her purpose.

I looked to my assistant and nodded. He walked to a cabinet and pulled open the doors, revealing many bottles of pills. Unfortunately, the most plentiful drug we had was arsenic, which did not provide for a pleasant and quick death. My assistant unscrewed a bottle and took out a small pink pill.

It was my job, sadly, to tell the patients that we were going to give them rat poison and that they would die anyway if we didn't give them the drug. I bent down to the woman's level.

"The internal bleeding you have is too severe, and our supplies are very limited. We just can't treat you." My assistant gave me the pill and tied the woman's arms and legs to metal loops in the ground. He forced her mouth closed so she wouldn't scream.

This was probably the worst job in the world. She stared at me with such fear and helplessness, I almost crushed the pill between my fingers and ran out of the damned place.

"We have no choice but to...put you to death. There are no other hospitals that can take you, and transferring you is too risky." The woman started to squirm. "Please! Don't move! It'll only make it worse."

I signaled for her mouth to be opened. My assistant let her mouth open just a crack.

"Can't you just shoot me?" She asked. A tear ran down her cheek and she started to sob.

"Right now, our bullets are too valuable. I'm sorry." I held the arsenic over her mouth. My assistant stood by with a shot of morphine to numb the pain about to be inflicted. I dropped the pill into her mouth and my assistant gave her the shot. He then shut her mouth so that she couldn't spit it out.

"You can either chew the pill, swallow it, or let it dissolve. I'm truly sorry, but since you are at a low rank, this was necessary. Also, since you're menopausal, you've served your purpose here." A short silence followed. "By now, the pill has dissolved if you haven't done anything to it."

The woman opened her mouth. "I'm a lieutenant and I can still have babies!"

"What do you mean?"

"Did one blink mean no?"

I realized what had happened. In her panic, she had confused my instructions and given me the wrong answers. "One blink...meant yes."

With a look of defeat, she relaxed her body and waited for death.

The next update will be to TMMOAH, so it will be much more lighthearted than this story. I got this idea, like many others, from my long meditation periods in my cave. Hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn't, I don't blame you.