My Old Self ~ Jerika

4.

Jake: This is why we use the paths.

He squats down and grabs my hand to see all the blood on it.

Jake: Holy shit Erika!
Erika: The trails are no fun. I do this all the time. I'm fine.
Jake: Look at your ankle.

I look down and there's blood dripping down onto my shoe.

Erika: Okay, well it doesn't sting and doesn't seem that deep, just big. I'm fine. Help me up please.

Jake drops my bloody hand and grabs my other one. He pulls me up and we continue to go through the woods. I sat by Jake's side as he won't let me go in front of him. I can't tell he doesn't like walking through here and keeps an eye on my ankle. When we finally reach my car he jumps in the passenger seat.

Erika: You should just follow me with your car.
Jake: I walked up here. I live down the street.
Erika: Oh, okay.
Jake: We can go to my house before your secret destination to bandage you up.
Erika: I can bandage myself up where we are going.
Jake: Well, let's hurry up.
Erika: Listen, I take driving very seriously so don't ever rush me.
Jake: Got it.

I decide to drive on the back streets so I can drive slowly without irritating anyone. It takes longer to get to my house but if it means I'm not getting blood everywhere then I think I'm good. When I pull into my driveway Jake looks confused.

Jake: Is his Cortney's house?
Erika: Her second home.

I looked over at Jake to see if he understands where we are yet and for a Monet he wasn't and then his eyes got big.

Jake: No way.
Erika: Yeah way.

We get out of the car and go into the house. Right when we walk in I look down to see the blood going onto the floor.

Erika: Fuck! Thank Go my mom isn't home.
Jake: Here, I'll carry you.
Erika: Oh, no. I'll make it to the bathroom.
Jake: If you won't let me carry you then stand there for one second and take off your shoe.
Erika: Jake, I'm fine.

I kneel down and take off my shoe. I stand back up and start walking upstairs. I quickly walk into my room and into my bathroom. I hear Jake walk behind me and stop when I get into my room. I don't mind it as I go into the bathroom.

I sit on the toilet seat and open my cabinets under my sink. I take out the makeup and place it near the door way. I grab the hydrogen peroxide and a wash cloth. I start to clean the cut and say some things under my breath from the pain.

Erika: Ouch, ouch, ouch.

I applied it to he cut one last time and I did a big amount to make sure it was clean. I have to admit, my pain tolerance is pretty big but when it comes to this I just can't handle it.

Erika: Frick!
Jake: What? Can I come in?
Erika: Of course. Why wouldn't you be able to?

I watch as Jake pauses at the door way of my bathroom and leans on it.

Jake: Usually girls aren't allowed to have boys in their rooms.
Erika: First of all, I know. Second of all, it's not like we're going to make out. Third of all, my mom isn't home and if I was to tell her a boy was going to be in my room she wouldn't give a shit.
Jake: Good to know. I really thought you were the shy type.
Erika: Paul, I'm not even close to that. I just found that way as an escape from my feelings. But I was more on the reckless side I guess you could say.
Jake: I can tell.
Erika: Getting a cut isn't called being reckless.

I place some band aids over the wound and get up. I get on the ground and start putting things away.

Jake: I mean. You didn't find the trail fun which I do. You ran through a ton a of roots and eventually a thorn bush. And you don't even give a shit when you get hurt.
Erika: Yeah, well I'm fine.