Bitter Blood (BBi)

Chapter 27: Salt & Fear

Chapter Twenty-seven
Salt & Fear

I wake to the fresh sun beams of morning streaming in through the bathroom's only window.

The raw stench of blood has filled the small space and brings a stirring sick feeling to my stomach. Sometime during the night, my hand returned to my side to hold that bloody towel over the Werewolf's wound. But it's filled up now and leaked a large puddle onto the tiles beside me.

Blue's head is resting on top of my leg and his eyes are staring up at me, watching me as I slowly wake up.

“Hey, boy,” I say in a hoarse voice that has been drained of volume.

I try to clear my throat as I sit up. My back and neck aches from the bad position I fell asleep in and my ripped open side thrums with pain in time with my steady heartbeat.

I don't know what time it is, but I can tell that the sun is high in the sky so I estimate that it's probably around midday.

I should be at school by now.

My eyes widen and I suck in a breath.

The wolves! There's nine of them, all dead and bloody on the floor of our school gym. Surely someone's noticed them by now.

Even while a large part of me is freaking out about this, there's another quieter piece that whispers; not my problem.

I check the wound and see that the jagged, torn edges of each claw line have smoothed out – the first sign that what Blue has been doing is working.

But it's no where near okay.

After a long while of sitting there, running my fingers very slowly through Blue's fur, I get to my feet and go to the bathroom sink to strip off my bloody clothes. I look at the wound in the mirror once my shirt is sitting in the sink and cringe at the full sight of it.

It's a monstrous kind of thing; dried blood mingling with fresh drips, shredded flesh and bright red swollen skin. I step away from the mirror.

I turn the shower on, strip off and step under the spray. The water burns when it runs over the wound and I brace myself against the wall.

I slowly rid my skin of the smears of my own blood, but don't risk washing myself with soap or shampoo. Once I'm as clean as I can get myself, I climb out and wrap my self up in a towel, carefully avoiding disturbing the lacerations. There's a wash basket just outside the door filled with clean clothes and I step out to grab a bra and panties to wear. When they're on, I gather gauze, bandages and safety clips from my medical kit beneath the sink to fix myself up. I use medical tape to stick the gauze over the wound then wind the bandages around my ribcage, making sure that it's tight enough to apply at least a little pressure. I clip it together and pull a shirt on over the top very slowly and very painfully.

I lock the bathroom door behind me as I go into the lounge room to make sure dad doesn't just wander upon the mess I've left behind.

I climb the stairs with Blue ahead of me and trail him into my bedroom. I lay myself carefully out on the bed but still manage to twist the wrong way and send a spike of pain through my ribs. I cry out but smother the sound into my palm.

Minutes later I find myself drifting back into sleep, despite already resting for several long hours, and awaken again at dusk.

I strip off the bandages and Blue tries again at healing me.

When I lay back down in bed a stray tear drags it's way out of the corner of my eye and runs down to melt into the fabric of my pillow. Another follows it soon after.

That's how I find sleep again that night – through salty tears and a mind swimming in fear.

Things are happening around me – doors opening, footsteps down and up the stairs, the kettle beeping when its hot – but it all sounds strange and distant, like it's in another world I'm not a part of.

I lie in bed, imagining that I am wandering in a different land where only Blue and I exist. It's a lonely place and its not long before my skin has grown cold and I'm wishing for the real world to return.