I think I rather be dead

                                    

                                          
My own coughing and heaving woke me up. Smoke, flames, the smell of burning flesh. I can't move. 
Am I dead?
I feel a sharp pain in my leg, instinctively I reach down to grab my thigh. I feel a familiar warm thick liquid coating my fingers. No, I'm not dead...Not yet at least. Disoriented, I try sitting up slowly, another sharp pain stops me. This time in my chest. 
I think I rather be dead. 
The events that transpired start replaying in my head. We were riding through a thick patch of forest, things where quiet, we thought it was safe. Their pitch black armor camouflaging into the dark foliage that surrounded us on all four sides. I caught a glimpse of a reflection in the sun. 
Before I could even speak all hell broke loose, they were waiting on us. How could we be so careless. I jumped off the truck sword drawn, I started running to the first king's guard in my way, then a cannon goes off next to me. And another, and another. Each one closer than the last. Finally one drops right behind me tossing me like a rag-doll, knocking the wind out of me. The last thing I saw was Theo hauling ass and dragging the others into the carriages while a brave few held off the assholes bombing us in hiding. I could see him arguing with Ava, she was yelling and pulling him onto the truck while he looked around frantically. 
Just go, don't be stupid. My voice had left me, I couldn't utter a word. I see them pulling away, then the world went black.
Now I'm laying here, burnt trees above me, the air thick.
I look down as much as I can. My clothes are drenched in that velvety red that I so hate to see. Sticking out of my side is a palm sized metal shard, maybe three or four inches in diameter. I freeze and lay my head back, hoping that will somehow help. Shit. Shit. Shit. I can feel blood dripping down my side, soaking right through my shirt. My vision is starting to blur and a fleeting image of those deep brown eyes and playful grin pull me back. Holding my breath while clenching my jaw, I sit up completely, trying to ignore the black spots dancing around my vision. The thought of laying back down and bleeding out seems a lot more desirable now. I rip off whatever is left of my mangled jacket, take my shirt off and tear it into two large pieces. I tie one around my leg. It should hold for now, if I live through the metal sticking out of my side. I direct my attention back up to it, wanting to look anywhere else. Every breath feels like a stab to the chest. Over, and over, and over again. 
Goddamn Theo. I mumble to myself. I told him something felt off, but it was too late to turn back. I shake my head, ultimately it was my fault for wanting to believe we could cross through king's territory unscathed. I look over the perimeter. Bodies, body parts, shell casings, guns, swords, the forest painted red all around me. Im thankful for not recognizing any of the bodies around me. At least I looked dead enough to leave behind. No sign of life other than me, not the worst thing in the world but given my current state, not the best. I look back at the metal shard, it doesn't look too deep, pulling it could be risky, but leaving it seems riskier. I use whats left of the shirt I have and get it ready. Grab a stick next to me, put in in my mouth then bite down as hard as I can. I'm biting down so hard I feel like I'm going to shatter all my teeth. This is going to hurt.
I look around one more time, the last thing I need is another surprise. I take a deep breath, it ached worse than I thought, I grab the shard. 1. 2. 3. I pull as hard as I can, I feel it slowly emerge out what felt like my ribs, a pain unlike any other shoots through my body. Its out, I put as much pressure as I can on the wound with the piece of cloth in my hand. I slump back down and take some deep breaths. In, Out, In, Out. I would've rather been shot. I lay back down holding the shirt to my side as hard as I could, feels like an eternity. 
The sun is shining through what is left of the burnt treetops above, a breeze rushes through. Incredible how a scene so horrific can be so peaceful. If it weren't for my fucked up leg and equally fucked up side, or all the dead people around me, this would be nice. It's not too hot, or cold, the warmth of the sun kisses my skin. The slight breeze takes away the smell of burning trees and people alike. I look back down at the wound, It doesn't look too bad, a clean slice. Not too deep either thankfully, didn't hit bone I don't think. Maybe I'm just trying to convince myself of that, the severity of my injuries is not something I want to linger on. Having it out already feels so much better, breathing doesn't hurt as much.