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CHAPTER SEVEN

Author: Noelle Palmer
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

I slowly opened my eyes, only to see myself lying on the floor in an unfamiliar room. I slowly sat up with the support of the wall behind me and winced in pain. My eyes shifted to my leg, and the sight grossed me out as it was covered in blood. I lifted my fingers to touch it but did the opposite, as the wound was still open and the blood was pouring out of it. I looked around the room and realized that it was the same cell where I found Linds. As the memory of her went through my mind, my eyes prickled with tears.

The room was small and dark, only a small bulb lit above me. The cell door was locked. It was a metal door with a square glass window at the top which showed me the bright lights igniting the hallways outside. I was still in my old clothes. My tank top was drenched in the blood same as my skinny jeans below my knees and my hair was a mess on my shoulder. The metallic smell of blood and sweat flooded my nostrils, and it sucked. I winced in pain again and decided to inspect my injury. Tucking the strands of my wild hair behind my ear, I took a close look and realized the bullet was still inside my leg. I wanted to let the bullet remain in my leg to let myself die as the guilt of letting Lindsey pass away in front of my own eyes took over me, but my survival instinct said otherwise.

Suddenly, the door of the cell opened, and I jumped. A groan left my mouth as the pain intensified, but ignoring it, I craned my neck towards the intruder. I was surprised to find a woman of my age walk in. She made her way into the cell and stepped in front of me. She had brown eyes and black hair, which was tied in a bun. She wore a simple plain black dress that reached just below her knees. I ogled at her as she placed a plate of food and a small bottle of water in front of me. That was my meal, I guessed. Saying nothing to me, she turned around and padded towards the door, but before she could step outside; I stopped her.

"Wait," I yelled, but my voice came out a mere whisper. I was glad she heard me as she turned around and met my eyes for the very first time. She came a little closer to me but stayed mute.

"Um...can you give me something to fix this?" I asked hesitatingly and pointed my finger to my bleeding leg. Her blank face stared back at me. Her eyes went to my leg for a second and nodded when saw the blood. With no further say, she walked out of the door.

I didn’t know for how long I waited for her, but I was sure it was more than half an hour. When I finally gave up on her return, the door opened again and she walked in. Her black heels clicked with her every step. She handed me a box, and I took it from her. I mumbled thanks before she walked away.

I stared at my leg continuously for a long time. I needed to pull out the bullet from my leg and stitch it, but I feared the excruciating pain that I would have to suffer from in order to take the bullet out. The box contained a few tools that could help me with the wound. Filling my lungs with a few deep breaths, I raised my hand towards my leg. As my finger brushed my leg, I jolted in pain. I stopped and inhaled. Bracing myself, I grabbed the pair of small scissors from the box and cut the jeans from below my knee. Once the blood strained fabric was separated from my leg, I threw it aside and gagged when I saw my feet stained in red.

Wasting no more seconds, I poured the water from the bottle to clean the blood around my wound and forced my two fingers inside the wound and screamed in pain. Tears flooded my eyes and rolled down my cheeks as I tried finding the bullet. I cried in agony at the top of my lungs at the pain that burned my entire body and shook me to my core. I moved my fingers inside the wound and finally found the bullet. Grabbing it, I tried to pull it out, but it didn’t budge. I groaned and wiped my wet cheek with my arm.

I blinked away the tears and grabbed the scissor. My heart was hammering rashly while my throat was dry, and it ached. Clutching the bullet with the scissor, I tried to pull it out and failed the first time. I continued with my struggle and finally pulled it out of my leg. My heart pumped violently inside, but I felt the sudden relief when I threw the bullet to a corner. Blood flowed from my leg as water down a river. I was getting dizzy but did my best to stay awake. Grabbing the stitching needle and thread from the box, I started to patch my skin together. I couldn’t feel any more pain and for a second, I was terrified at the thought of my leg being paralyzed. When I was done stitching the wound, I pulled out the gauze and wrapped it on my leg. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, and I let my neck fall backward to the wall and closed my eyes, relieved.

My chest heaved up and down. My tank top and my hair were glued to me due to sweat. Suddenly, a wave of drowsiness ran through my body. My eyelids became heavy again. I shook my head and opened my eyes, only to see the room circling around me. Black spots came into my vision and before I knew it, I was falling unconscious again.

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