Devils Game

Five | Not a Surgeon

"Your gonna be okay Justin... your gonna be just fine!" I yell exhausted, hauling the first aid kit and myself back to Justin.

I reach him and use his knees to pull myself onto my feet, I know by doing this Ill make my injuries worse, but I have no choice. I move myself behind Justin's chair and untie the rope around him. I take all my strength hobble Justin to the ground, letting him lean on my shoulder.

Once he was on the ground, I quickly removed his shirt and took a look at the bullet hole. A lot of blood. Way too much blood. I turn back and grab the kit, looking at what I have to use. I dont know how to use these, Im not a surgeon! I dont know what to do. I pace back and forth, my eyes searching Justin's body, like the answer will come to me if I just look at him long enough. It doesnt.

I let a wimper out, and soon enough tears follow. I know now isnt a time for that, his life is on the line and Im crying, but Im not doing anything. But I cant help it. I take a few deep breaths and shove the discouraging thoughts out of the way.

Okay, okay. I got this.

First: look for a exit wound. I place my hands on either side of Justin's chest and flip him just enough over to see that there is no exit: which means the bullet is still stuck in him... which means I need to take it out. My hands begin to shake as I carefully lay Justin back down all the way.

I take a look at the materials I have, scanning over anything that looks like it can help. I grab a silver object that looks like a spoon, but is thinner. I look back at Justin, I can tell that he's almost at his limit, he's loosing it. He doesnt have any pain medication, anesthesia, or even any sterilizers. Everything's wrong.

I have to do this, otherwise worse problems will occur. I take a deep breath and lift the object to his wound, its covered in blood, just drenched in red and the area that surrounds the tiny, bare hole. I can see it on the inside, the raw skin that got tore through by a bullet. I take a deep breath and sink the object into the hole, and almost immediately Justin's body convulses and the air is being torn into by Justin's screams.

He'll die if I dont do this, I tell myself as I dig around for the bullet, making the object go deeper and deeper into his chest, making his screams get louder and louder.

"Im sorry! Im sorry!" I scream out, hoping that Justin could hear me.

And then I feel something hard.

I look back down at the wound, its even more swollen than it was a few minutes ago. How is that even possible? I wince at the gory sight, and clamp the object around the hard substance, cringing at the sound of Justin's cries as I do so.

Shaking, I lift my hand out of his shoulder, and plop the bullet down to his side. You did it. I look in the kit for bandages, and take one of them out and press some gauze to the wound and wrap his whole torso around with what we have to use.

Now thats over with, I take a look at my own feet. They are covered in blood and almost look purple. I know that I have to take out the glass if I want to stand up, so, hesitantly I take the pair of tweezers that I find in the first aid kit, and begin.

Barely able to keep my eyes open, I turn my left foot over and start from my heel. Theres about six shards of glass sticking out from it, that I can see. I bite down on my lip and move the tweezers over to the biggest shard, and carefully clamp them over the glass. Right as I do that, the pain is so overwhelming that that alone makes me cry.

This goes on for about an hour, except with more screaming and shouting and pounding at the floor, trying to relieve some of the pain but finding that theres no way possible for it to dim down in the slightest. I think I lost consciousness for a few minutes.

I bandage my feet and take a look at the shoes that were next to the first aid kit: size 6. My size. How did he know what shoes to get? I carefully slide the shoes on, wincing at the amount of pain that shoots up at me when I do so. How the hell am I going to stand.

But eventually, I do manage to stand, after many, many tries. I look over at Justin who is sprawled out on the floor, his shirt covered in his own blood. I sigh and try and pick him up, just wanting to get out of this room and somewhere... cleaner.

I drag his body behind me as I head out of the metal door, and we both leave the glass filled room alive.

One more game defeated. Who knows how many more to go.