Pricked

39

Arren

Oh my Gosh, oh my God, her eyes popped open. Her breathing heavies, and blood oozes across her chest.

"Harriet," the words don't even escape my mouth before I'm apologizing over and over as her eyes flutter open and close. All I wanted was to wake her up and now I'm the one to kill her. Tears fall fiercely down my face. Stop it, I think and demand myself to hold it together. I need to save her, this is medical, this is what I was taught. I can do this. I can do this. "You were poisoned and you have been here in the castle for just over 2 months," I don't know why I bother explaining it to her, but she deserves an explanation on why she's here and why she is now dying at a strangers hand. "I'm a doctor," I say and find it stupid to explain myself, to introduce myself after all this time spent with her. I know Harriet. I know her, but she doesn't know me. "Arren Greyson, and I know that being a doctor usually means saving people and I'm going to do everything in my power to save you, Harriet." A smile, a small smile comes across her face along with a look of recognition. Maybe she thinks I'm her friend, Mitch. My brain flashes to Mitch, he is sure to kill me.

"Please don't die," I hear footsteps in the hall and turn slightly to shout. "HELP!" I scream and guards come in, but it's no use, it's so late that all the staff is asleep or gone home for the weekend. Why did I do this now? Why didn't I wait for, I search my brain for something, some explanation that would make killing someone alright. I could have done this any day, any time and I had to choose dusk and when everyone in the palace was gone. There is no one to help me save her.

"Harriet, stay awake, please stay awake." I say and want to shake her awake, but can't find the strength to do anything, but hold my hand on her bleeding chest. "I couldn't wake you." I fiddle with my bag one handed, attempting to find something, anything to save her. But, out of all my training I never had to bring someone back from the dead, only to kill them, to save them right on deaths door. "And I couldn't even kill you correctly!" A chuckle breaks through me then I'm laughing, then crying. "I'm sorry," I say for what feels like the millionth time, trying to compose myself, but I can't control my feelings. The door swings open before I can think of a logical reason that she's awake and also almost dead.

"Harriet I-" it is Mitch. "What happened?" His tone changes from sadness to confusion. "Did she wake up?" He is hopeful and his eyes flicker with joy, until his gaze meets my blood soaked hands. "Why is she bleeding? What happened?" His questions keep rattling off as he runs to us dropping down on his knees. "Arren!" He yells and brings my attention away from her.

"I did this," I say softly.

"What?" Mitch's tone changes again, "what do you mean you did this? What did you do?"

"I kissed her goodbye."

"And she woke up?!" Mitch said with amazement.

"Then I stabbed her with my father's dagger."

Mitch looks to her bleeding chest again. "Why?" Mitch says slowly, his focus on Harriet.

"I didn't, I didn't..." would I be able to convince him that I was doing what I thought was best for her? "I didn't want her to suffer," sobs seep out of my mouth. Mitch glares at me through bushy eye brows, his face fills with hate. Harriet's eyes flicker open, but only for a moment and Mitch holds his breath.

"Har-" Her eyes flicker closed.

"There were so many possibilities and possible problems-" I try not to lets Mitch's stare intimidate me. "If anyone were to wake her then the likeliness that she didn't have cognitive and motor or fine motor, problems..." Mitch rolls his eyes back to Harriet and lets out a breath. "Like my dad thought all along." I say under my breath thinking back to his harsh words. I gave into the science behind his words and killed her. "I thought it would be best," I think of the science the medicine and- "I can save her." My voice hitches and I can't breathe, the lie comes so easy. "I just need-"

"You should have asked me what I thought!" Mitch is outraged, as he should be.

"Time, that's what I need. Please, help me save her."

"Obviously," he states bitterly, "she is my best friend, I'll do anything to save her. l will be mad at you later." Mitch hisses out through gritted teeth. He is getting past my mistake to help me, I won't waste his kindness. I open my mouth to speak, but words don't work right now, actions will. "Now, save her now." Mitch demands.

Mitch replaces his hands over mine allowing me to get what I need ready. Emergency surgery. Don't freak out. Be calm and save her. I keep forgetting to breath, all the tension and stress of killing Harriet and saving her all at once. My chest rises and falls so quickly that I'm hyperventilating as I stare into my bag. Breathe, damn it breathe. I try and command my heart to slow, to take deep breaths and find a way to save her.

I didn't hit her heart so what did I hit? My mind visualizes the human body, all the organs and muscles everything in the thoracic trunk. I place a finger on her neck and my hands shake momentarily until it reaches her clammy skin. Heart beat rapid, skin cold to touch, I reach over her and pull open an eye lid. Her eye is rolled back. What did I do? Why did I do this? Fix her. Save her. If she dies, Mitch will kill me, heck I would kill me as well.

"Well Einstein what do you think? What can you do?" Mitch's bitter voice cuts through my fear. I'm killing his best friend and I don't know how to save her, but I can't tell him that.

"I... I," before my brain has time to think I rise up, my head spinning slightly from the change in position then I run for the door.

"Arren!" Mitch yells but doesn't follow. What have I done? What have I done? I can't breathe again, my chest is tight and my head is pounding in my ears. Harriet I'm so sorry I pant out. I stop running and fall to my knees. How appropriate that I collapse in front of the palace chapel.

"Save her," I yell, as I have done so many times before. "Save her please!" I bang my head to the ground. "Please I can't be the one to kill her. Not like this. She woke up!" I'm yelling at the gold cross hanging outside the beautiful engraved oak doors. I'm yelling at God, a man that has not listened for so long. Why would he start listening, start helping now? Tears stream down my face, "please." I croak out. "Give me the strength to be your noble servant and to do what I have been trained to do. To heal. Please give me your wisdom to heal her."