Timber

Chapter Fifty-Nine: What Doesn't Kill You

The silence of the sun-bathed hospital room was broken by the slick sound of gauze sliding over skin and a sharp inhale. The strong but familiar aroma of astringent burned the inside of Hazel's nostrils.

"My apologies, I should have warned you this burns a bit," Dr. Calyx's hands trembled as he worked.

Her palm stung, but Hazel welcomed the physical pain like a friend over the turmoil boiling in her soul. Thick black stitches decorated both sides of her left hand as he ran cleanser-dampened gauze over them. The liquid bit at the raw skin between the stitches.

His stiff voice cut through the semi-awkward silence again. "There is no infection, and the stitches hold well. But there is still drainage, and the skin is fragile."

Hazel nodded at his words, but he continued to keep his head lowered and stare devoted to her hand. His nervous shifting contradicted the confidence in his voice.

Once he seemed satisfied with the cleanliness of her stitches, he shot up from the bed and left the room. Hazel frowned and tilted her head at his abrupt departure. Was that it? Do I smell or something? Just as she was about to bow her nose to her clothing, the door flung back open.

In Dr. Calyx's grasp was a sizeable silver case. He paused as he reached her, staring down at the contents within as he tapped the edges sporadically.

Hazel could not help but be curious. "Are you all right, doctor?"

His gaze flitted towards hers before he returned to the box in his trembling hands. He cleared his throat, "Um...I don't want to offend you, but I was instructed to use these, Miss."

A wrinkle formed between her brows as she leaned forward, attempting to see what he was so concerned about. Dr. Calyx flinched as she moved closer to him. I really need to shower.

Thoughts of personal hygiene died immediately as her eyes met the contents. Inside the box lay rolls of bandages, all in various pink shades. Hazel's heart almost burst. Ruby's wide grey eyes flashed through her mind. The stitched palm of Hazel's hand felt sticky and warm as her fist clenched.

"I apologize for upsetting you, but please be careful Miss," Dr. Calyx warned in a hushed tone.

"Who asked you to bring these? " Hazel inquired; her vocal cords felt suddenly parched.

Dr. Calyx glanced at the door before shifting his attention to his shoes. "I am not at liberty to say. But I can leave it open to the air if that is what you prefer?"

Hazel pressed her thumb harder in hopes of drowning out the images playing behind her eyelids. What would be the consequences if he didn't use them?"No, please continue. Besides, you are right, there is drainage."

The doctor nodded as beads of crimson drops peeked through the stitches. Taking scissors and tape from the drawer, he dropped the case on the bed. Her eyes remained glued to the pink bandages as blood dripped down her hand.

Silence descended as he wrapped the bright-hued material around her palm. Her stomach soured at the bittersweetness of the situation. She was all but forced to use the pink bandages, which made her instinctually want to hurl the metallic crate out the refined hospital windows. On the other hand, she didn't want to be responsible for whatever might happen to the doctor before her.

"She was a sweet girl. It was a shame to see her pass," Dr. Calyx whispered again. Hazel's eyes darted to his face, but his gaze remained fixed on his own fingers, wrapping her palm.

"She...was," Hazel spoke slowly. It felt wrong to talk about her in the past tense.

"You did everything you could for her, you know. Her injuries weren't survivable." He looped another band between her thumb and her other fingers.