Vial #127

Chapter 32: Revenge on the Great

Jackson lays me down on my bed. Jamie stays with me as they go get a first-aid kit. I can barely see, I must've gotten a punch to the eye. I can only see a sliver of the world but that fraction of vision allows me to see the massive bruises along my sides from where I was dragged away, pulled apart from the wall.

"Emma, what happened?" Jamie asks; his voice is concerned.

"It's nothing," my voice is weak and hollow, nearly silent; it does not mask the recent events. Every bone in my body feels broken but I know that is an exaggeration.

"No, really, if someone did this to you, you need to tell me," he is trying so hard to make things right.

"If you want things to be okay, just let it all go," I turn over to stare at the wall, covering my damaged body with the sheets. When Sadie and Jackson return, they have medicine, bandages and a nurse, who insisted on coming.

Together they carefully tend to the cuts, wrapping up my wrist again, adding ice to bad bruises. I feel like a science subject in some trial, just the way they all tend to my frail body. Then, one by one they leave; silently exiting to go clean themselves up, leaving me with Jamie.

Right now, he has his old baseball hat on, making his hair fall downwards in an arc around his face. "Emma, I swear that I will get whoever did this," he says protectively, "I will, just tell me who. I can work a gun, Dad taught me," his tone is desperate, wanting to help me be better and make sure that no one else gets hurt. Jamie has always looked out for others, doing the best, doing what's right, even though what needs to be done may be hard.

"Just let it go," I mumble into my pillow. He goes quiet. I can feel annoyance radiating from him, making a tension-filled environment.

I can hear people preparing for dinner but I don't have the energy to get up, let alone the confidence to stand in front of them. I can still hear everyone talking; no one knows that I still lay here, alone and hurt.

Sadie comes back a little later with a small plate, "I'm sorry," she apologizes, "it's all they'd let me take."

I thank her and slowly begin to eat the food. The taste dies before it hits my tongue and I swallow the flavorless bites nearly whole. When I finish, I put the plate down beside my bed.

There are still hours until lights out, until everyone goes quiet. I grow restless, just laying there, doing nothing. My mind and body crave to move, to just do something. Instead, I can do nothing. I lay there, picturing Aiden beside me, my Father in the bed next to Jamie. I keep my little fantasy alive in my head; only in a perfect world.

"Emma," it's Jamie's voice and I turn over to shush him away but instead he climbs in beside me, curling against my broken body.

"Thank you," I say to him, grateful that somebody will take the time to care for me while I am weak.

"It's okay," he soothes, the closest thing to a Mother's voice that I have in this world. Only his words make my heart fumble and I start to shake. In the back of my throat I imagine blood seeping up and pouring out onto the floor. This taste, the intense metallic flavor, seems too real. Suddenly, my mind stops. I have no thoughts for several terrifying seconds while I interpret the information.

I spit. A thick bloody liquid splatters onto the ground and I begin to panic. The fluid sprays Jamie's shirt. "Is this real?" I ask, still unsure. This seems like it is happening but it is too terrifying to fully grasp.

"Emma, stay here, I'm going to go get help." Jamie is courageous, taking action, turning me onto my side so that I don't choke and runs off to the infirmary. Seconds later, as the warm substance fills my mouth, like a running bath, again, he returns with a wide-eyed nurse, who take in the bloody scene. "Emma, it's going to be okay," I lock eyes with Jamie, nodding my head. The nurse takes off for the infirmary to search for the doctor. I hear the shouts arising from down the hall as a stretcher comes towards my bed. An older man with wide glasses and a narrow nose comes up and raises my body up, wheeling me away. People that are lingering at the dinner tables begin to stare; their faces scared and wondering what is wrong.

"You need to tell me what you're feeling Emma," the doctor seems to shout into my ears.

I focus on my body, my nerves trying to feel. "My stomach is numb, tingly." I try to raise my head but his arm immediately comes to push it down.

I feel his hands raising my shirt and then I hear him swearing excessively. "Is my sister going to be okay?" I hear Jamie asking, his voice squeaky in panic. I can hear him being taken away, his protesting suddenly going silent, leaving me with just the doctor.

I am injected with something in my abdomen. Immediately the tingling goes away, replaced by the dull feeling of nothingness. The doctor orders a standby nurse to get the scalpel. I squirm but my body doesn't react. My gut feels full; blood, full of blood. There must be internal bleeding. A moment later, the fullness in my body is released.

"Emma, you need to tell me what happened. Who did this to you? We just want to prevent it from happening again." He seeks the same information as Jamie. I shake my head, knowing that I was the cause of Peter's violence. I remain silent.

Tears swell in my eyes, "We need to know," he urges. I try to turn over but he stops me, quickly informing me that the drain will move.

"Who did this? Telling me is for the best," I turn my head to the side. Staring through the window is Peter. His face is concerned to the normal eye but to me, he is watching my every move to make sure that I don't tell. Something inside me suddenly realizes the damage he's caused; even if I shouldn't have been there. I urge my lips to form the syllables. The adrenaline inside of my body builds up and I spit out the words in dark and evil syllables, "It was Peter."