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"Will I d-do that again?" She asked quietly as he grabbed a new wipe.
"Yes." He nodded, wiping down her forehead.
"A lot?" She questioned, swallowing thickly.
"Yes." He repeated. "What are you thinking?"
"W-whether to do it or not." She sniffle...
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☆*:.｡. o(▽)o .｡.:*☆
Nova did as told, laying back on the blue paper, it crunching under her movement. Madam B walked over to a wall and pressed on it in three different places making it open up before she walked inside. Looking up, Nova couldn't see what was inside but her head moved to the side and she saw the soldier stood in the corner of the room, staring at her blankly.
She mustered up a tired and nervous smile, her forest-green eyes staring into his ocean ones, fear and sadness crackling in her iris's. The soldiers eyes looked away from her, choosing to stare at the wall opposite him, leaning back against the one behind him, arms still smartly bear his body.
There was the sound of wheels rolling and Nova looked up to see Madam B rolling a small, tall table towards her. She placed her head back on the table, closing her eyes and gulping audibly. There was a snap of rubber and she guessed Madam B had put on some gloves. She was correct, seeing the blue gloves now on the woman's hands when she peeked one of her eyes open into a thin slit before snapping it shut again.
A thick silence covered the room like a blanket. A blanket that was supposed to suffocate you slowly, forcing you to stop breathing so slowly you don't realise you're doing it until you claw at your throat for air. It was horrid. Nova couldn't tell what was going on and she wouldn't open her eyes on fear of what she might see.
"Open your eyes, you stupid girl." Madam B ordered and Nova snapped her eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. "Take your top off." The request confused Nova when she suddenly spotted a mark on the ceiling that looked oddly similar to a dinosaur. "Now!"
Well, that certainly broke her out of her trance. Pulling the top off, she started to fiddle with the thin material, laying it over her thighs as she lay back down on the table. Her eyes stared ahead at the ceiling, her throat visibly moving as she swallowed multiple times out of pure fear as Madam B leant over her, admiring a scalpel in her thing fingers.
Nova's fingernails dug into the material of her t-shirt as Madam B pressed the scalpel to her collar bone. The cool metal dragged across the bone, marking out a deep cut that would most definitely scar, deep red blood oozing from the line. She struggled to bite back the tears, leaning her head backwards more as if it could force the salty liquid to the back of her skull her lip had started bleeding because of the force in which she was biting down on it, the sweet taste of metal invading her taste buds.
Madam B pulled back the scalpel with satisfaction in her eyes as she looked down at the long gash she just inflicted on the poor chin. The skinny woman waited for Nova to crack. She waited for that year to fall but it didn't. All she got was a twitch of the nose and glossed over eyes. Nova didn't cry which was one achievement for the Red Room.
Madam B grabbed some bandages, alcohol and a needle and thread. She allowed Nova to pull back on her t-shirt which she did, the blood of her wound soaking through the black material quickly. She willed her bottom lip not to wobble, the burning behind her eyes more significant as the t-shirt rubbed into the wound horribly.
"Clean yourself up in your dorm." Madam B ordered, handing her the things. "If I ever see any intolerance from you again, this will happen over and over until you learn not to disrespect your superiors. Next is to get rid of that awful stutter of yours. Fix it quickly or we will."
Madam B left the room swiftly, leaving the soldier with Nova. The black haired girl was still forcing back her tears, afraid the soldier would tell Madam B like he did with this. A whimper slipped past her lips as she tried to get down, her collar bone in immense pain that no child should ever experience.
The soldier pushed himself off the wall and walked towards her, gently lifting her off the table and onto the floor, making sure to avoid her wound. Nova had all of the supplies in her arms, looking down at the bottles in confusion. She had no clue how to sew and clean a wound up. She was five. The soldier grabbed her hand this time as to not hurt her upper body anymore and lead her out of the room, taking the bottle of alcohol into his flash hand while Nova held the rest of the stuff.
