Luna's Daughter (1st Edit Done)

Chapter 7

Aliyah Staton

            I went into the house already starting to feel a little woozy from the head wound. I found my way into the bathroom and pulled my hand away to examine it in the mirror.

"Damn that's going to need stitches," I said looking at the two inch gash next to my eyebrow. I could already see some swelling starting and was sure I would have a black eye from it. I dug around under the sink until I found my father's medical kit.

I pulled out a syringe, needle, and a bottle of lidocaine; I placed the needle top on the syringe and filled it with some of the anaesthetic. I carefully injected it around the wound hoping that I was using enough, but not too much. My father was always the one to doctor me up when I got hurt but he wasn't home so I had no other choice but to try it myself. I had never once been to a doctor that I could remember. I never seemed to get the common colds that everyone else got, and every time I would have an injury my father would simply stitch me up and it would heal on its own in a few days.

I washed out the gash and took out the stitching kit. It was much harder than I thought it would be to put stitches in looking in the mirror. I managed to get the first one though and tie it off. I was about to start the second one when I heard the door open and my father call for me.

"Dad! I'm so glad your home," I said as I walked out of the bathroom. I saw the surprise on his face as he took in the scene in front of him. I had dried blood on the side of my face and on the neck of my shirt. My skin stained orange around the cut from when I sterilized it. I had a needle and thread in one hand and a pair of medical scissors in the other. "I could really use your help," I said giving him an embarrassed smile.

"Sit down," he said as he placed his briefcase by the door; I heard him let out a short laugh as he looked at me again. "What in the world did you get yourself into Ali?" He asked as he examined the wound.

"Well my homework blew out of my hands and into the woods; I went running after and tripped and fell. Then that jerk Amaro found me out there and yelled at me for it," I said still angry about the encounter.

"You're not supposed to be in the woods, he every right to scold you." I could feel a slight tug on my skin as he placed in another stitch.

"Are you seriously taking his side on this dad? What was I suppose to do, I had to get those papers!" I said moving my head up so I could meet his eyes; he grabbed my head and held me in place.

"Hold still Ali before I make you look like Frankenstein!" He said as he tied off the last stitch. "You did pretty good on that first one, I'm impressed."

"Don't try to change the subject dad, but thanks it was difficult in the mirror." I was still angry at Amaro but my dad's compliment on my stitching job seemed to calm me down some.

"I don't know Ali, I guess you should have just called him and asked if he could find the papers for you."

"Oh yeah because he's so friendly, I'm sure he would just jump at the chance to help me out." My snide comment didn't affect my father at all; he simply ignored me and started putting away the medical supplies.

"You should go clean yourself up," he said taking one more look at my blood stained shirt before moving himself to the bathroom.

I went upstairs and took a quick shower pulling my long brown hair into a tight ponytail on the top of my head. I looked in the mirror and could already see the dark circle forming under my eye. Looking at my Emerald green eyes in the mirror I secretly wished they were more like my mothers. It was the thing that stood out about her most in the few photographs I had of her. Her eyes were a light sky blue with hints of silver at the edges. I did have her straight hair, but instead of being black it was a dark brown like my fathers. I had the same body shape as her, slim but with just the right amount of curves. My skin always had a natural tan to it even if I didn't go out in the sun for months. The more I thought about my mother the more I wished that I would have gotten a chance to get to know her. My father told me that she was murdered when I was only a few years old, but he never went into details about how it happened. I don't know if I really wanted to know how it happened; maybe it was best that I didn't.