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The heavy rain continued to beat against the window but the silence was louder. In what seemed like ages, Alma finally took a steady breath. Small pumps of adrenaline ran through her body as she was unsure of what the figure in front of her would do. At the moment he was weak, but she was well aware of how strong the human body could be if put into a fight or flight situation. The last thing she needed was his wounds becoming worse.
Checking to her side, she noted the walking stick was still in the same position where she had spotted it before. It would pain her to injure a human who already had enough trauma, but if it was for both of their safety…it went without saying.
“It’s okay. I am not going to hurt you.” Alma finally found her words, her voice low and as steady as she could make it. If she showed she was afraid, would he take advantage?
An unwavering gaze was all she received in response. “Can you tell me your name?” Nothing. No reaction. Who was this? Should she explain the situation? Would that only make it worse? There was no doubt that he was feeling pain, but in freightful moments the brain is powerful.
“I found you injured and only brought you back to help fix you up.” She paused, watching for any sign of acknowledgement. Alma took a small step forward which caused him to push further against the wall. Opting not to move towards him, she continued, “When the rain stops I will take you to the hospital and they can get everything sorted out for you there. For now, just rest. Your body needs it.”
She thought about leaving him alone but she had a feeling that if she did, something bad would happen. Either he would attempt to escape or ruin all the hard work she did to fix his wounds.
As exhausted as she was, Alma went against her better judgement and took a seat on the floor. She placed herself across from him, but still a good distance away. His piercing blue eyes continued to watch her every movement. It felt as he was a creature who had been removed from its home, thrown into the world and left for dead. Why? Why did this happen? It was the one continuous question she had.
A few minutes passed before he finally redirected his gaze to the ground, his face contorting into what she could only guess was pain.
At that moment she was happy that John did not stay with her. If he was in the room, it would be more chaotic than what anyone could handle. He was a firecracker, they both were. A wonderful sibling combo that had driven their parents crazy. Patience, however, was an attribute John did not have. He would drive both herself and this man to the edge. Who knew what would happen.
“You know…” she started, continuing to watch him, “It is much more comfortable on the bed.” Being in that hunched position probably only tore at his injuries and made the aches worse. She received a cold glare as a response. Oh great…an attitude. It made sense why she hadn’t been able to get a single word out of him. He looked around her age, so why did he still have a teenage personality.
He had gone through a lot in the last few hours though, was she being insensitive?
Scooting herself backwards, her back rested against the wall. She fought off sleep, her gaze staring blankly at the floor below her. It was obvious that she shouldn’t engage, but part of her wanted answers, wanted to make sure that he was okay.
A small part of her regretted what she did, but she did her best to shake that feeling away. This was who she was, even if there were small parts of her that did not agree. She could never turn a blind eye, even if she tried. John always made fun of her for it, but she never found any shame in helping those in need, even at her own expense. Many times in her life she was lucky, why not spread it to others?
“I want to see them.” The hoarse voice caught her off guard, immediately grasping her attention. He spoke! There was something else laced in his words. Was it hope? Worry? Despair? For a moment, she believed he was talking about another person, or people, but she knew what he meant.
It would be a mess if she took the dressings off now, more problems would arise. Something stopped her from declining her request. The look in his eyes was something she knew well. It was the same look both her and John had when they lost their parents.
The man had already begun the attempt to stand up on his own. His body was weak from the trauma it experienced.
A deep sigh erupted from her lips, she was going to regret this. Standing up, Alma walked over to where he was struggling still wary of who he was. As she reached out her hand to help him, he swatted it away as she stared at him with disbelief.
Oh, how badly she wanted to punch him right now.
“Listen, I know you have been through a lot, but you cannot do this yourself right now.”
The thoughts running through his mind were almost visible as his facial expression contorted as each one passed through. Finally, she could see that her words had reached him.
She moved slowly, placing her hand gently onto his arm and the other around his front to support him. He was freezing. “Sit down on the bed, I can bring in a mirror. You’re too weak to stand without support.” Given how he did not want to be touched, he quickly obeyed. Making sure he was stable sitting on the edge, Alma moved over the long mirror in the room. She could hear his breathing stall for a moment, no doubt shocked by his reflection. He was still covered in dirt, but something told her that was not what made him react.
“Let me take the bandages off.”
Her guest was surprisingly compliant. With each layer of bandage she removed from around his torso, Alma snuck glances at him as she was now much closer than before. His features, even while covered in filth, were devilishly handsome. Rather easy on the eyes. Was he famous? A model? Slowly her mind began to invent fantasies that she had to snap herself out of. ‘You’re engaged! You can’t think like this!’ Alma internally chastised herself but it didn’t stop her heart from fluttering.
Upon removing all of the bandages, she moved the mirror into a position where he could see his back. It wasn’t the best angle, but it would have to do with what she could provide. Alma stood to the side as she simply observed.
The skin had remained puffy and red, irritated from both the injury itself and the work she had done to clean and close it. Puss had begun to ooze a little from between the sutures, but there was not much she could do about that. She had given him just a low dose of antibiotics that she knew was safe for humans, but it wasn’t enough to really stop anything. Wishful thinking.
The look on the man’s face contorted into something she could not understand. There was anger, confusion, sadness… What exactly happened to him? Only a few seconds passed before he took his gaze away from the mirror and he shifted his position. His fists were clenched and body was tense. It was eerie. From what she has experienced, most people would not act the way he was. They would be in hysterics, crying, yet he appeared as if he was rejected. Did he take part of a shady group? Did he escape from being trafficked?
Every fiber of her being was itching to bombard him with questions, she felt that she deserved to have answers for everything that she has done to him, but she knew well that this was no time to be selfish. Whether he was crazy or simply just broken and confused, she didn’t need to stress out his mind even further. “Like I said before, tomorrow we will get everything sorted out. So rest.”
“No.”
Alma looked at him as if he was insane. “No?”
Both of them stared at each other, each stubborn in their own way. “I need to leave.”
“You can’t leave right now. You are in no condition to move on your own and it is pouring rain outside.” He promptly ignored her and shakily stood up from the bed. Alma started to reach out but stopped. As much as she was invested in him and the situation, he was someone who had to learn on his own. As she expected, he only made it a few steps before falling face first onto the carpeted floor. “Told you.” What was she, five? It felt like she was talking with John.
“Where do you need to go? I can take you when the rain stops.” Maybe she could get some information this way.
A short sulking episode ensued as she watched him struggle from the floor and back to his feet, his hands resting on the footboard of the bed for support. “A house of worship.”
Yep, he was insane.
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