Wrecked

The boy who didn't come back

Before I could even push myself away from my spot, my heart already beating so loud it was blocking out all other noise, the boys had appeared at the edge of our clearing.

I didn't have time to search over all of them, to inspect them to see who was injured because I got my answer immediately.

Mason shirt was off, his leather jacket brushing his bare torso. He was covered in dirt and blood and small wounds. But what really caught my attention was his shirt wrapped around his hand.

The dark blue material was stained a deep red as he clung to it feverishly. His eyes were panicked, desperate and flustered.

When he saw me a brief moment of relief flashed threw his eyes and he fell to his knees before me.

"What happened to him?" I dropped to my own knees, hands automatically reaching for my bag as pulling it between us. Mason was white, the colour of the pale sand amongst the grass we sat on.

His back fell up against another bag, his body relieving itself from the energy it was taking to hold itself up.

"His finger-" A voice came from behind the boy, it was faint but told me all I needed to know.

I brought in a quick breath, preparing myself for what ever I was about to find. There was no time for me to allow my worry or guilt to overcome me- I had to be level headed and calm. The cries and soft screams that were filling the air told me that I needed to be calm because no one else would, I needed to be their anchor. Like Darcy had always been for me. Like Jesse was becoming.

Mason's eyes were squeezed shut, his face screwed up- demonstrating his pain. Despite this clear display of panic his body gave nothing away.

I reached out for his arm, pulling the hand to me. This created a flinch in response, a quiet squeak audible from the back of his throat. I felt his entire body tensing up as I began to pull back the shirt.

My fingers gently began to unwrap the blue material. I unwrapped it from the wrists and palms as quickly as I possibly could. All I had come across was more blood stained cloth. Nothing that all the blood had escaped from.

Until there was only one layer of material left. It was so thin that I could actually make out something. But only 4 something's.

The place where a pointer finger should have been, held instead a stump. A stump that stuck out from just above the knuckles.

Unable to take it easy any longer, I ripped away the shirt- throwing it to the side.

"Mason-" I couldn't help it, the words slipping from my mouth as my control lapse for a brief moment. "What happened?"

I didn't get a response, the boy's body still tensed up with his eyes releasing a stream of steady tears. This display of emotion pulled at my heart, twisting my stomach with guilt.

"I'll fix this, Mase." I assured him as I leant forward. My two hands held either side of his palm as I held it up to inspect it.

It was a clean cut, leaving nothing behind from above were the knife has clearly met it's target. Hands besides me held out the bottle of alcohol, ready to pore it over the finger for me.

I pushed the hands away, "That will just damage the tissue, we need water. Cold- not the hot water from the fire." Hot water would just cause more bleeding or further tearing of the tissues. We didn't need that, and although we didn't have a tap of running water all of our bottles should do the job for now.

Caila reached out and handed me about three bottles, shaking my head I signalled for her to pour it over herself.

"Slowly, and from above, not directly into the cut." I gave instructions as I turned his palm to face the ground. The boy was yet to open him eyes but I could feel his body release itself from the tense hold. His chest was heaving at a steady pace and the colour was slowly returning to his face.