In The Bird Song | TWD

chapter 28 - White heather

Harlow pov

I wake up to the bells signalling the beginning of the working day. I sigh and snuggle into posy trying to pretend I can sleep some more even though I know I can't. I was up until the early hours of the morning cleaning and stitching more wounds than usual because there was a large scale gang fight that got a lot of bystanders injured. Of course, some members of the actual gangs allowed me to take care of their more serious wounds as well.

I think its roughly day 145 of being without carl, Daryl and Michonne and if I count a month as 30 days its been 4 months and 25 days. It feels like it's been much longer but I suppose that's because of the seemingly endless nature of the days in the unit. Time just seems to move slower here.

Its been nearly 3 months since I started helping the injured and over that time span I have managed to build a foundation of trust with the workers that I previously wouldn't have imagined possible. I became recognisable as the girl that heals for free and I've earned the respect of most people in the community as a result.

I haven't been the target of attacks in a long time probably because no matter who you are there will probably come a time when you might need stitches so letting me live is in the best interest for the everyone.

Infection was a big problem when I started treating people because I only have one needle and water is far from disinfecting . However, things got much better when a man who was a member of one of the smaller gangs in the unit gave me a small bronze lighter that he claimed to have smuggled in when he first arrived here. He gifted it to me after I stitched up a nasty laceration on his thigh claiming he didn't have any cigarettes so I would have more use for the lighter than he did.

Infection is still a risk but it is rarely caused by a dirty needle now since the flame does a fine job sterilising it. I do not need to steel as often anymore because the people I help have taken to giving me payment when their able to. Things like a piece of bread or half a tin of food if they have it to spare. It's usually people who only have themselves to provide for that pay me and although I was initially hesitant to accept there compensation I still ended up taking it because its necessary for survival.

People don't seem to mind that my entire body is caked in dirt and other filth as long as my arms are clean from elbow to fingertips. Its not like I'm the only one who doesn't wash in this place, far from it actually.

I lay in my corner under the stage and listen to the germen family getting ready for the day knowing I will need to do the same in a minute. My hand wanders as it often does these days to the necklace around my neck. It's a circle of clear resin with a small white heather flower pressed and preserved inside. My mind wanders back to the night it was given to me just over 2 months ago.

I was doing my usual routine of walking the halls looking for the people most in need of treatment when I stumbled across a women in her late 60s who was clutching a large deep gash on her side that was staining her fingers red.

She looked like she had lost a lot of blood already and she appeared to be running a fever. I did my usual process of approaching slowly and offering to help to which the women agreed to softly.

The wound was extremely deep and I was not sure how much I could really do for the women but this happened before I learnt what triage was so I decided I would try fix her up the best I could despite my lack of hope.

The lady seemed too weak to talk much and she looked like she was fighting to stay awake. I was worried she might not wake up If she shut her eyes so I spent the whole time talking to her about everything and nothing periodically asking questions about her life doing my best to coax out an answer.