Chapter 15 - Alex
"There." Oliver said in an accomplished tone as he applied the last bandage to my wound. "All zipped up."
I smiled at him, but then remembered that for the past half hour I had been crying because of the constant pain of a needle in my leg. I awkwardly tried to hide my face. The antiseptic, or what ever he called it, seemed to do more help than hurt. The liquid inside burned as it entered my body. The solution seemed to work well enough at first because when the first stitch went in, all I could feel was the pressure. When he started to go deeper, I could actually feel the needle. I defensively brought my hands up, something always did when I felt threatened, which meant I was no longer holding Seth's hand. After some scolding and annoyed looks from Oliver, I would've grabbed it again, but he had dosed off and I didn't want to wake him. It also made me feel too vulnerable, holding someones hand for comfort.
"Really Alex?" Oliver started with a laugh and a sarcastic smirk. "I've seen you crying this whole time, there's no reason to hide your face. Actually, you did really well. You didn't even make a sound. "
I laughed at him, but decided that I needed to wipe that ugly smirk off his face.
I reached out to kick him, playfully of course, and was rewarded with a sharp pain where my newly stitched up wound was. A yelp escaped me, and Oliver dropped down with my leg. His face that was just smirking was suddenly full of concern.
Hold up, his cute face. This was the first time that I actually looked at him without being preoccupied with other worries. He was leaning forward cradling by leg, with his strangely perfect eyebrows and marbled sky blue eyes full of worry. Aww.
"What? Why are you smiling at me like that?"
"Oh nothing Oliver." Even his dark blonde hair seemed to swoop with concern. Oh gosh, its like I'm actually a girl or something. "Boop!" I said poking his nose.
"Um...ok." He said, sitting up and releasing my leg. "By the way, you can call me Oli."
"Oooo, I'm special enough to get call you a nickname."
"Well, no. Everyone calls me Oli."
"Oh."
An awkward silence passed between us. Then, he suddenly stood up and gathered the medical kit together. He flashed a smile at me and made some kind of gesture with his hand. His thumb and forefinger connected forming a circle, and the rest of his fingers just stayed in their normal position. He sensed the confused look I must have been giving.
"It means ok. It's just a thing I do. Sorry." With that and a cryptic look, he was off. He was such an awkward person.
"Oli." I yelled before he could get too far away. He turned around and I gave him an ok sign back. He shook his head and spun back around, but not before I could see the triumphant smile on his face.
Next to me, Seth purred back to life with a groan. I looked over at the stirring boy, who was yawning and stretching.
"Good morning sunshine." He said tauntingly. I rolled my eyes. "Glad to see you still have a sense of humor."
"It's not like I had brain surgery."
"And you still have your sarcasm. Wonderful."
I just shook my head and had to laugh, because I knew it was true.
"So where did Doctor Oliver go?" He said while looking at my bandage.
"He's not that bad Seth. He's just trying to get done what needs to get done. And he did."
He raised his hands up. "Easy, easy. All I'm saying is he was a little arrogant."
"He is probably just awkward around new people. Give him time. Oh, and he says to call him Oli."
He seemed to he thinking about something. I could see the gears turning in his head. Suddenly, he nodded and stood up.
"You should get some rest. Oli and I will keep watch." He said with a smile.
"We might as well just surrender if you are keeping watch."He made a guttural noise in his throat and shambled away.
He was right, I did need sleep. We had been on the run for at least 24 hours since Morgan and I evacuated our apartment. Morgan! I had completely forgot about him. We left him and Ben to fend for themselves against the entire NASR army for all I knew. All we could do now was get out of this tunnel and try and find them.
But that would have to wait. I realized how tired I actually was. I lied down, using my tattered fleece jacket as a pillow. The stale aroma of burnt fabric along with a sharp twinge of dried blood filled my nostrils. There was another smell, a familiar smell that reminded me of home. I clutched the jacket tighter and tried to bury myself in the familiarity. All I wanted was to be back in our apartment with morgan, even if it involved his annoying poem that he told me when I would go to sleep. He would tell it when i was little and was scared to go to sleep because of my nightmares. It was written by a poet from before the war by the name of Maya Angelou; I know because he would tell me every time he recited it. Solemnly, I repeated the triumphant lyrics of the poem.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
