The Bodyguard (PhaYo)

The Bodyguard 15 - Forth

BEAM

My door always opens and closes without any sound. It doesn't creak and the locking system is just a very subtle click.

With so much effort in tiptoeing in the dark room, I squint my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I pick up the broom from the corner for my make-shift weapon.

Reaching for the light switch, I flick it on and the whole room illuminates.

I am welcomed by complete silence and an empty room. My bed is still fixed, no signs of anything being moved also. The curtains are still down and covering the closed windows.

The bathroom door is still open, with my towel hanging on the knob.

I take deep calming breaths before walking to the side of the bed. I sit on the bed, massaging my temples.

Thinking about Forth is giving me headache. Adding the rush of panic just now doesn't help make it better either.

Taking a deep breath of air, I jump in alarm as my nose catches a hint of a stale, rusty scent. Blood! With wide eyes, I stand straight and heighten my senses to observe the room. My eyes already saw no change. My nose already caught the scent of blood.

I close my eyes and try to listen. I slowly and quietly take careful steps. My heart is beating loudly, ringing in my ears. Focusing on the sounds farther than the ones I create, I hear it: soft, labored breathing.

I slowly go to the direction of the other side of the bed and is welcomed by sight of a man lying on his side. His black suit and coat is soiled with dirt and the obvious stains of fresh blood.

Without considering the peril, I run to the man and put him on the bed. Having a better look at the unconscious man, my world crashes.

FORTH!

Adrenaline starts coursing through my system. The next thing I know, I'm already tearing his articles of clothing, leaving him completely naked.

His major injuries are the two gunshot wounds! One on the left shoulder, just below the clavicle, and one on the right thigh. There are several cuts on the arms, his forearms, and a stab wound on the other leg. Even his face has a few bruises.

I rack my brain for the right things to do in this situation...what's left of my reasoning, anyway.

"Think, Baramee! Think. Shit!" I curse to myself.

I run to the bathroom and grab hold of the first aid kit. I begin rummaging, looking for the forceps. None! Why the fuck is there no forceps here?!

I run to the shelf and, thankfully, the tweezers are there. It's the nearest I can use to take the bullet out.

I try to recall what few and reliable knowledge I learned from our topic on wound dressing. Referring to a textbook for guide, I prepare the things to use in improvised bullet extraction and list down the things I will need to buy in the pharmacy later.

Disinfecting the tweezers with povidone iodine solution and squeezing a few drops on the gunshot wound, I hold the tweezers carefully and insert it in the wound until the tip touches the butt of the bullet. It's pretty deep. It's barely three inches deep, the tweezers almost isn't enough.

I have no other means to numb Forth's pain so I press a few centimeters on the periphery of the wound to delay the pain reception of his brain. Having a firm grip on the bullet, I quickly take it out and immediately press a gauze on the wound.

I am almost thrown away from the force as Forth jerks awake and screams in pain, extending his agony to my heart. Barely keeping my sanity in check, I can only push him back to the bed and offer reassuring nothings even if he doesn't hear me properly.