In Your Veins

Chapter 4

Someone's scream wakes me from my daze. The lights are on in the theatre, and there are murmurs in the air from people around me.

I look down, against my better judgement. There's blood and other fluid-soaked solids on my hands and my clothes. My pants are soaked through with blood. I feel bits of something on my face, and in my mouth.

Khiere's limp body leans backwards on the seats in front of ours, and his shattered head spills over and onto the next row. A smile is still etched on what remains of his face. I have the sudden urge to throw up. I succumb to it with little resistance, pouring the contents of my stomach out and onto the floor to fester with the rest of the bodily fluids that pool around my feet.

Please...someone get him off me.

"Help..." I mumble to no one in particular, but my voice doesn't come out as much more than a shaky breath. My voice refuses to make sound.

Why? Why me? Did I do something wrong?

Is this my fault?

I stare straight ahead, avoiding the carnage below my sightline. One look was enough for a lifetime.

I sit there for God knows how long. I couldn't move, even if I tried. So, I just sit there. Waiting. People say things around me, but I don't hear them. All I can hear is a ringing in my ears and whispers of his voice...

Eventually, someone moves his body off my lap. The sudden removal of his warmth makes me shudder.

Someone shines a flashlight directly into my eyes, and I squint. That hurts. Only then do I realize that someone is trying to get my attention.

A woman who looks like some sort of paramedic looks down at me. "Can you hear me?"

I stare at her blankly, before realizing that I'm supposed to respond. I nod.

She offers me a hand. "Do you think you can stand?"

I'm not so sure of that myself. I take her hand and pull myself up. Looks like I can.

With her help, I walk to a stretcher where she asks me to sit. She asks me questions, that I answer. They're silly questions, and I wonder why she's asking them when there's a much bigger issue going on here.

She shouldn't be focusing on me. I know he's...beyond repair...but he's a lot more important than I am right now.

Can't we figure out why he did what he did? Can't I wake him up and ask him to explain?

Of course he'd leave me with more questions than answers. For the short while we've known each other, he has given me nothing but question after question.

I slowly adjust to my surroundings, finally becoming aware of what's going on around me. I hear sirens in the distance, and catch bits of conversation between two people.

"...bits of....in his skin...."

I run my fingers over my face, and feel hard protrusions from my skin. They hurt to touch. I try to pry one out, and it comes away in my hand, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. I inspect it in my hand.

It's bone. At least, I think it is. When Khiere pulled the trigger....

....bits of him embedded in my face and body like shrapnel from a bomb.

Why was he so close to me? Did he do it on purpose? I can never trust that anything is a coincidence with him again.

....why? Why do any of this?

I continue running my fingers over my face. There's so much of it. There's so much of him.

My hands slip down my neck and over my shoulders. Bigger pieces have embedded themselves in my chest. If I didn't know any better, I might be inclined to think that my own collarbone was jutting out the side of my body, piercing through my skin and displaying its blood-tinged ivory surface like some sort of nauseating decorative exhibit.

But it's not mine. None of it is mine. This big piece of bone that sits embedded perfectly at the natural end of my left collarbone is from him. The small, bony studs that decorate my face and chest like stars in the night sky are all from him.

I want them out. Even if I have to pry each piece of bone from its flesh resting place myself. Even if I bleed myself dry trying to get every little sliver out of my skin. I want him out of my skin and out of my mind for good.

After noticing that I've started trying to remove the debris myself, a paramedic comes over to me and promptly tells me to stop, lest I infect the wounds. I decide that it's probably a good idea to listen. They tell me that they're going to take me to the hospital, so I can have most of the little bone shards in my skin taken out. I insist on driving myself to save costs, but they point out all the blood that I keep producing. I'd have to pay a lot more to get blood out of my cloth car seats, I suppose....

I agree to go with them.

I've never been in an ambulance before. It's interesting to be in a vehicle that everyone must immediately yield for.

Maybe it's the calming effect of the ambulance ride there, but I can slowly feel more and more of the pain from each individual bone chip. It seeps into the skin around my cheeks and around my neck and pools in between my muscles and bones until I can't feel much else. I wonder if I fall asleep, I might feel the pain less.

A while later, I'm at the hospital. I'm not sure how the journey went or if I actually fell asleep, I'm just at the hospital now. That's just how that is. There are more people around me, and someone is telling me to lie down, but I don't really want to anymore. I'm not hurt that badly.

I'm made to lie down anyway.

The most vivid sensation I can feel right now is a distinct tingling feeling in my legs. Otherwise, my head feels like it's stuffed with wet tissues, and my eyelids feel weighed down with lead.

Perhaps a small nap would do me good.... I'm sure nobody will mind....

I wake up in an uncomfortable bed. The mattress is....so thin...

I touch my face and come into contact with the thin plastic of a light bandage instead.

A nurse comes by to tell me to quit touching my face, but in much nicer terms. I'm given care instructions for my wounds, and then promptly sent down to the reception to pay and be discharged.

The receptionist tells me that my invoice will be mailed to me in five days, and then wishes me a good night. As if I could ever sleep peacefully knowing that I've got hospital bills due.

I walk out of the hospital and gaze up at the night sky.

What a whirlwind of events.

A lot of things happened tonight, but...I don't feel anything about them.

Maybe I'm in shock. That seems likely.

For now....what time is it? Where am I?

How do I get back to my car...?

I successfully locate my car with minimal effort and drive back to my apartment. I live just outside the university, for ease of travel. My parents....don't live in this country. I hope they don't hear about what happened tonight, I'll never hear the end of it. All of this is just dust under the carpet...

I park my car and stumble my way up to the second floor. After closing my apartment door behind me, I look over to my mantle for a clock. It's 3 in the morning.

The fatigue hits me like a truck. I sink onto the floor. I don't even think I can shower or change...

I could just...worry about that tomorrow....

I feel my eyelids getting heavy again, and I drift off to sleep right beside my front door.