Guarded

P R E : A coke! Please!

-• Olivia Alvez •-

I've been shot once in my lifetime. Only once. It was in the shoulder. It hurt so much I honestly thought I was going to have my entire arm amputated.

You want to know what's worse than being shot?

Being told it's 'not that bad' literally 20 minutes later. Being told 'you're lucky' just because it missed your vital organs. I don't feel very lucky right now mate!

Oh, did I forget to mention that right now is 20 minutes later?

"You're going to be okay, yeah?" My idiot brother Simon shoves a pillow under my head and rests both his hands painfully hard on my shoulder in order to apply pressure.

"I told father he shouldn't station us all together but nooooo, he just had to try be smart," My even stupider brother Vincent rants, more to himself than anyone else.

He's busy pacing away in the hall by the front door with his phone pressed to his ear.

"Shut up and help, you fucking imbecile!" Simon snaps at him.

"I am!" He turns to us with a harsh glare, pulling the phone from his ear in order to point at it. "I'm on the phone." He says like it's obvious.

I roll my eyes, completely fed up with their stupid antics. If they're not going to help, I'm gunna have to do it myself.

"Simon, is there an exit wound?" I roll over onto my side, groaning from the stabbing pain the movement causes to shoot down my arm.

"Uh..." he moves his head to look at my back, peeking around for an exit wound when suddenly I feel his finger in my shoulder and cry out in pain. Well don't poke it!

"Stop hurting her, dammit!" Vincent snaps, holding the phone away from his ear and covering the mouth piece to scold Simon.

"Yes, there's an exit wound," He brings a hand round to put pressure on the other side as well. It's painful but it's better than bleeding out, so I can't complain.

"That's.. that's good," My head starts to spin. My eyes begging to struggle to keep full focus forward and try to roll into the back of my head. Slowly, the pain in my shoulder and arm begins to numb.

"No, don't pass out," Simon is now patting my cheek to keep me awake.

"I'm.. I'm not," I roll my eyes at him, "I just.. need a second to rest my eyes."

"Eyes open!" He snaps at me, his hand smacking my cheek significantly harder than before, "They can rest when you're dead."

"Well aren't you sweet?" I mutter, my eyes aching as I try force them open again. My eyelids burn and it takes all my concentration to make sure they don't close.

"Hi! Thank god you picked up.. Yes, I would like 2 happy meals," I hear Vincent say into the phone. My eyes snap open immediately and both of our heads shoot up to give him an 'are you serious' look.

"Vince!" Simon shouts in a slightly pissed off tone.

"What?" He throws an arm out with furrowed brows. "Oh," he pulls the phone away, "did you guys want anything?"

"Now's not the-"

"Yeah, I'll have nuggets," I interrupt Simon, who gives me an un-entertained look, "I may have been shot but I won't pass.. pass up a Maccies," I rest my head back on the pillow, hissing in pain once again.

This fucking hurts.

"I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it's true.." Our sister's distinctly bad singing voice sounds from around the corner as she comes sliding into the room in her bright pink, fluffy socks.