State of Grace (Complete)

Scarred

TWELVE GRADE SEVEN

I walk down the street, earbuds in, eating the remnants of my lunch. The warm spring air is light on my arms. It's funny to be walking by myself, but I had to stay after school for a project with Melody. We worked in the school library until Mrs. Banks kicked us out.

"Grace, want to come to my house?"

"Is tomorrow okay? I have to get home for dinner."

"Sure, I'll call you."

We head out in different directions and I grab a chunk of my sandwich before walking.

I am close to home, walking by the part where the woods meet up with the road, when I feel like I'm being watched. Stopping, I survey the surroundings. Two yellowy brown eyes peer out at me from in the trees and a low growl follows. The dog steps out of the brush and onto the sidewalk, and I can see it's slathered mouth and emaciated body. I slowly back away, knowing this dog doesn't look right. For every step back I take, the dog comes closer.

"GO AWAY!" I try yelling at it, but the dog still advances.

I throw the last bits of my sandwich at it, hoping to distract it, and while the dog gobbles it up, I turn and race towards home. I can hear the clipped tones of the dog's nails on the sidewalk as it chases me.

"HELP! HELP!" I am screaming, fear racing through me.

Ian steps out of the brush ahead, holding a big branch. "Get behind me, Gracie!" he calls. He swings the stick wildly at the rabid dog who is growling and snarling.

We slowly back down the sidewalk towards our houses, Ian waving the stick, the dog preparing to lunge.

It happens so fast, I can barely piece it together. Ian trips over an uneven piece of pavement and falls to the ground, dropping the branch. In a second, the dog is on him, jaws snapping violently. At first I am frozen with fear. I can hear the tearing of Ian's shirt as he attempts to roll away from the dog, but he can't move fast enough. The dog connects with the flesh of Ian's back, biting deeply. Ian's screams of pain compel me to move, pushing me to act. I grab Ian's branch and smash the dog over the head where it's still clinging to Ian's bloodied side. The dog is dazed and relinquishes his grip for a second, Ian rolls to the side, bleeding furiously while I hit the dog again and again. I know I am screaming and I just want Ian to be okay.

"Grace, Grace," Ian is calling. "Gracie, that's enough!" Ian yells to me breaking my trance, while he holds his wound. The dog lays on the ground and I haven't stopped hitting it, even though it's obviously unconscious and possibly dead. I drop the stick, shocked at what I've done and run to Ian where he's shaking and in shock. He's curled into a ball on the sidewalk, so I get right down next to him and touch him gently.

"Are you okay, Ian? Please be okay. Please. You saved me." I cradle his head on my lap, my tears falling on his cheek. I put my hand over his, where he holds his wounds.

"I'm okay Gracie, you saved me." He wipes away the tears from under my eyes.

"Not fast enough," I cry examining the blood on my hands from his gaping wound.

"I'm okay, Gracie," Ian says with a wince.

"We need to get home and go to the hospital," I help Ian to his feet and wrap his arm around me. "Thank you, Ian, I am so so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Gracie, I'm just glad I could keep you from getting hurt. I'd be devastated if anything happened to you." he whispers, in pain.

I turn towards him, his face contorted in pain, right next to mine and I kiss him on the cheek. "My hero." My stomach clenches in fear over what has happened and what I just did.

When we get to his house, thankfully Steve is home and he drives both of us to the hospital, stopping to put the remains of the dog in the back of the truck in case it has rabies. The waiting room isn't very busy and we are ushered into a cubical right away.

"Okay, Honey, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, we have to do Ian's sutures now," the nurse politely points to a waiting area.

"No! She has to stay!" Ian grabs at my hand, terrified.

"What's wrong, Ian? I'm not leaving you, I'll just be right over there."

"No. Don't leave me, I'm scared." He does actually look a little pale.

"I'm okay with Grace staying, if it makes Ian feel more relaxed," Steve cuts in.

"Fine, the doctor with be with you shortly."

I hold Ian's hand the whole time the doctor sews up Ian's cuts, sitting next to him and running my fingers of my other hand through his hair to help calm him.

"Unfortunately you are going to have quite the scar back here because none of these cuts are straight. There is some flesh missing and jagged tears, so it will look a little messy."

"That's okay, at least the dog didn't get Grace." Ian says, squeezing my hand. I'm losing feeling in my fingers, but I don't mind if it helps.

The doctor nods and starts tying off the stitches, "Well, both of you need to start on a course of rabies shots right away. Before I can let either of leave we need to give you two shots, then you both have to come back in three, seven and fourteen days for follow up shots."

I am confused, "I have to, too? I mean, I wasn't bitten."

"No, that's true, you weren't, but you were definitely exposed if the dog was rabid. Look at the amount of blood on your clothes," he gestures to my shirt. "If you have any open wounds anywhere or if trace amounts got in your mouth or mucous membranes, they could cause infection. It's protocol that anyone in your situation gets the shots. Rabies can be fatal if untreated, but with the shots, totally fixed," the doctor explains.

"If we need it, we need it, right, Ian?" I try to sound upbeat because I know he is already stretched to his limit.

"Ian, because you have open wounds, you need shots right at the wound site as well as in your arm, Grace, you just need to have shots in the arm, but I need to wipe down any possible blood with antiseptic wipes first, just in case." he gestures to the tray of supplies he has with him, including a large supply of wipes. "I need to give the shots as soon as possible because time is most important in these cases, so, Grace, I need you to hold still so the nurse can clean the area while I administer Ian's inoculations."

"Okay," I agree. Ian's grip tightens again when he sees the needle the doctor is preparing. "Ian just look at me and focus on my breathing. Try to match your breaths with mine," I tell him, trying to get his attention away from the big needle.

He looks in my eyes and I breath deeply. He looks so vulnerable and I see the trust in his eyes. He is trusting me to get through this, and I can't fail him, so I don't.

Steve took the remains of the dog to a veterinary clinic and it was confirmed that the dog had rabies, so it's good we got the shots right away. For the next few weeks we all carefully watch Ian for signs that he is turning rabid, but with the shots and everything there is very little chance. Andrea and Steve take turns driving Ian and I for our shots, which is never pleasant, but at least we don't die or anything. One interesting development from the whole experience is that Chris claims he and Ian are no longer identical.

"Can't tell us apart? Ian's the one with the kick ass scar," he's fond of joking, especially when they are in the pool.

"You're the one with the titanium arm! Shouldn't we call you Wolverine?"

"As long as I can call you Old Yeller!"

It also makes Ian somewhat of a celebrity at school and some of the girls from my class and the eighth grade class clamour around me for information about the twins, but especially the brave one that saved me from certain death. It's strange really, because these are all the same girls who have been in our classes forever, but the idea that Ian sacrificed himself to save me has transformed him into some sort of romantic hero in their eyes. Chris and I just giggle when they flirt with him because it's so ridiculous, but it makes me a bit angry when he flirts back.