Mania

Chapter 7

Hunting with my father has always been an adventure. It always has, it always will be. At some point during the hunt, he follows down a rabbit trail (literally) and leaves his only son to fend for himself against who knows what.
Real smart, dad.
I see a trail of tracks in the snow and I bound off in that direction in hopes for something to eat. We weren't completely out of food and it's not we would starve, but it's still satisfactory to do things for ourselves.
A shot fires off so close, I was worried that someone was shooting at me but there would be something trained on me- it would be nearly impossible to hit me accurately without it. Now it leaves me with a question; Did someone shoot my father or what did my father shoot?
"Dad?" I call out and my voice bounces off of the trees. Another shot fires and I hear ice cracking and something falling into a lake. I take off sprinting in that direction with worry fueling me. I reach the lake and and I test my weight on the ice. It groans a little but it doesn't crack. I step out and I slowly inch my way to the hole.
Instead of my father, I see a girl with wild blonde hair submerged in the freezing water. I hesitate for a second, thinking if I really want to jump into a frozen over lake for a girl I don't know, but my better judgement worms its way in and I take my coat off. I step out of my jeans and I take off everything above there. It was cold even without the water. I sigh audibly and my breath comes out like a cloud and I jump into the water. It nearly takes my breath away and I fight the instinct to get out. I grab the girl's arm and I kick ourselves out of the water. I scramble out onto the ice and nearly jump back into my pants. I put on my shirt and hoodie before looking at the girl I dragged out of the lake; her lips were a deep shade of purple and you could see every vein covering her body. There was a bullet wound on her shoulder along with the one in her thigh.
I pick her up easily and I'm thankful for how small she is. I trail back to our house and I sneak through the back porch. I tip-toe past the kitchen and find my mother surrounded by a pile of paperwork. It used to be numerous piles of romance novels.
Now, books are traded for hard work, and pens are traded for guns.
I go up the stairs and I hear our front door open and my father grumble to my mother. "Damn it, Easton." He calls out from the kitchen and my heart stops. How can I explain carrying a half dead girl that my father may or may not have tried to kill up to my room? "Your mother told you to take off your boots at the door!" He scolds.
I sigh from relief and I reply, "Sorry- won't do it again." I manage to get my boots off without my hands and I leave them on the stairs.
I make it to my room without any more hitches and I set the girl on the bed. I bring a hand up to mouth as I think of how to not make things awkward. Taking a person's clothes off saves them from hypothermia, but it also invades my boundaries and probably her's, as well.
I go to the bathroom and I grab the first aid kit in order to give myself time to think. By the time I come back, I know what I have to do. I close my eyes and I fiddle with button on her jeans. Not wanting to move her bullet would, I cut them off and that was incredibly difficult for someone who couldn't see. I take her coat off and I cut off her shirt, as well. My hands bump along her ribs and it almost feels like my hands are going along a washboard.
I brace myself for what I have to do next and I step out of my room and I go into my older sister's room. I haven't been in it ever since she died. I can almost imagine her sitting in her bed, going insane from the pain of her stomach dissolving. I shake my head and I go into her closet and I pull out a nightgown that would probably to big on the girl in my room.
I nearly run out of her room and back into mine. I quickly slip the gown onto the girl and I asses to her wounds. The one on her shoulder was just a graze so it had to be cleaned and bandaged, but the I had to pull the bullet out of her thigh and stitch it up I'm glad was is unconscious for that part.
I wrap her in many layers of blankets and I put a pair of socks on her feet. I also turned on the little wood stove in the corner of my room and I grab the worn backpack that was with her. In it, I found all of the basic necessities you would need and I set them out to dry. I also found stranger things, like a doll or a random page from a book. I also found piano books and a journal. I knew I shouldn't have read the journal, but I did. By the time I was finished with the journal, I remember who the girl sleeping in my bed is.
_______________________________________________________I honestly have no clue what happened to the original copy of this chapter, so here's a new and improved one!