The Catfish Chronicles

Sleep, dumb ass

~her~
I return to the bathroom, quickly mopping up the blood with tissue, sweeping the pills into my hands and flushing them, and reaching into he cabinet to grab some bandaids and peroxide, the best I have at the moment. I walk back to see him still sprawled out on the bed, bleeding everywhere and probably ruining my sheets. I put the medical shit on the bed next to his head, and grab his arm gently, trying to avoid touching the cuts, when he wakes up. I don't know why I took this on, but I did. I'm not the nicest person, but I'm also not totally heartless, which is kind of a surprise to most people. "What're you doing? Georgia?" He mumbles, lifting his head up slightly for it to drop again, making the bandaids bounce on the bed as he groaned. "Don't worry about it Nick, just take a nap for now," I grumbled, picking off a bandaid from the floor and slapping it on his arm. He sits up, and I have the sudden urge to push him back down, but I resist. "Nick, you're gonna pass out. Just lay down, and-" he covers his face with his hands, curling up on himself."Georgia please don't say anything, no one- no one can know, I'm like this, they'll- they'll hate me Georgia, I know you're not a total bitch, and I'm sorry I put mashed potatoes in your hair-" "Nick." I say it sternly, grabbing his arm back down, and taking a minute to compose myself. "Go to sleep, we'll talk about it later. Ok?" He nods, but scoots to the edge of the bed a little bit shakily. I allow him to, only because he genuinely seems terrified, and I don't feel like pushing his buttons. I get back to work, and on cut six, the peroxide makes him flinch, his forearm tensing and his fist closing, and I automatically reach down to hook his hand with mine. I keep going after mumbling a sorry under my breath. He's full on shaking, and looking up at him I see that his eyelids are fluttering, but his color is coming back. But why would he do this in the first place?