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Even with the two of them, moving this man into the house was difficult. Why did she do this? Her arms and legs already ached, John was not doing much in the way of helping, and now knowing that the man is injured only added to mountains of stress. She wasn't a doctor for humans. Sure, there was overlap between the two careers but not enough if he was seriously wounded.
Once they were able to lay him face down on the guest bed, she ordered her brother to bring supplies. A bucket of soapy water, towels, and her home visit kit she kept there. John decided it was bedtime and left her to do all the work of cleaning him up. "This is your problem. Scream if he wakes up."
What a wonderful brother.
The two usually got along but she knew he must of had a rough day. Well, so did she.
Alma began the tedious task of cleaning all the dirt caked onto his body, being mindful of where she saw the blood. As each layer was removed more of his injuries where visible.
She could not believe her eyes.
Two symmetric wounds ran down the span of his back. Each one beginning at his shoulder blades and ending just below the middle of his back, about two inches wide. The flesh was shredded, the wounds penetrated deep. Did an animal do this? The skin was puffy and irritated. Oddly enough, there did not seem to be a lot of bleeding. She was dumbfounded as a wound like this would be gushing blood. But it was a blessing that she would take wholeheartedly.
How was he still alive? The question constantly on repeat as she scavenged through her at-home kit from work.
Oftentimes, she would do house calls for the really ill or large animals so she kept a kit for necessities since traveling far was common. Different instruments, bandages, sutures, and medicines all occupied the makeshift fishing box. Was it legal? No. Her boss told her as long as no one asks questions and he isn't named, all was fine in his eyes.
Her gaze shifted to the motionless figure on the bed. "Alright Alma, you can do this. Humans are animals too, everything is fine."
Placing her fingers against the man's neck, his weak pulse beat back against them. Pouring alcohol over some pieces of gauze, she began to lightly pat the gaping wounds. A few body twitches and light moans reacted to her actions. Good.
The neverending choir of her thoughts echoed each time she grabbed new gauze. Who could do something like this? Never in her twenty-seven years of life had she witnessed such a terrible act. Hopefully, this will be a happy ending for him.
By the time Alma began the delicate needle work, her stress levels rose as he became more responsive to her touch. She did have mild sedatives but she didn't know the impact it would have on him. However, he was in a foreign place and his last memories could not be good. She glanced over to her side, focusing on a wooden walking stick in the corner. Would that be good enough to knock him out if needed?
A moan of pain echoed throughout the room, the spasms increased as his consciousness became aroused.
She needed him to stay still. She was only halfway done with the right side and it was a long process already. Please go back to sleep, she wished. Her hands began to shake from worry and exhaustion. Giving herself another pep talk, she continued with the sutures, her wish having been granted.
Two hours later Alma successfully closed up the wounds the best she could. Parts of his skin were so fragile that it was difficult to close up properly. Once he is in the emergency room the doctors there should be able to fix it.
Fixing his torso with bandages, she let out a great sigh of relief that she was done. Her heart fluttered with pride as she observed the strange man before her. There was still dirt caked in his hair and other parts of his body, but that was going to be his problem.
Alma cleaned everything up and exited the room. Her body was heavy, drained of all its energy; her mind reeling from the day's events.
A mirror in the hallway greeted her with a disheveled appearance. Thick layers of dried mud covered her once fiery hair and pale skin. It will take hours to get everything cleaned off. Luckily, she did not have to work tomorrow, but who knew what it would bring instead.
As her hand reached for her bedroom door, her heart skipped a beat as a loud thump echoed from the room behind her. No no no, not yet. Why could this day not end already? Why was this a gift that just kept on giving? Finding hidden strength deep within her, Alma made her way back to the room she had spent the last few hours of her life in.
Upon opening the door, immediately her gaze focused on the empty bed. Was this man magic? Further inspection concluded that he was not but instead curled up in the farthest corner of the room. Her eyes met his icey stare, her heart stopping in her chest. Confusion, anger, pain were all emotions that easily contorted the man’s face.
Alma held her hand out in front of her, making slow movements. Every cell in her body telling her to either run from the room or knock him out. She wanted to find the right words, explain to him what happened and that she meant no harm. But she didn’t. She opted to stay quiet and only made small movements. He was exactly like what she dealt with on a daily basis. A scared animal.
Scared and unpredictable.
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