Saving Brownie | ✔

Chapter 4 : Babysitting A Grown Dude

I slowly crawled behind the dark curtains to somehow reach Clark. He was still throwing random stuff here and there like a lunatic. I was shit scared, but I was paid to take care of him, wasn't I?

I slid from behind the curtains and he sensed some movement behind him, for he suddenly stopped destroying all the articles. His whole right hand and the place where he stood was covered with blood. It was such a horrendous scene to witness. My legs wobbled and my hands were slightly trembling.

At first, I thought of pouncing on him from behind and hold him tightly to prevent any further destruction. But when I pondered over my plan again, I realized that neither I had so much strength to hold Clark nor I would do so, since it would hurt him even more.

I gulped in trepidation and took a step forward. He cocked his head slightly, but his back was facing me so I couldn't see his face. I shut my eyes and took two, long strides and stood a few feet away from him. He let go of the broken bottle and it rolled away. I sighed and gingerly walked towards him. He was staring down at the floor and then at his hand and winced.

I eyed him suspiciously and grabbed his arm. His arm was hot and I was afraid that he was stricken with fever. I held his arm as tenderly as possible. Fortunately, he didn't protest and let me examine the wound. He had lost so much blood and it was essential to dress the wound properly. I was trained in nursing since my mum was a doctor. Ha! I wasn't that useless! I internally smiled and did a happy dance.

"You stay here, I'll come back with the first aid," I commanded. He didn't say anything and just stood there like a rock. I wasn't sure if I could leave him out of my sight even for a second but I had to.

I hurried and brought the first aid kit as fast as possible. Luckily, he was still standing there as if analysing the destruction he caused. I rushed to him, but he did not move. I held his arm gently but firmly and examined his palm. It was coated with blood and there were pieces of glass stuck in it.

"We need to rush you to the hospital. I can treat you but it's safe for you to check into a clinic. You're bleeding like shit," I cursed and wiped off some blood. He didn't say anything and I was afraid of picking the sharp glass out of his palm myself. Before I could make any move, he, himself picked out the glass like he was picking up peas from a pod, but I couldn't miss the hiss that left his mouth.

"What the hell are you doing, Brownie?" I yelled, but as always, he didn't open his mouth. He threw the glass and fresh blood oozed out of his palm. I cringed inwardly and quickly took out all the materials to dress the wound. After doing all what was necessary, I wrapped a thin, cotton cloth over his dressed wound. All this while he didn't utter a word nor did he move. He just stood there like he was already dead, but what caused him to be so sad?

"Why are you doing this? We shouldn't harm ourselves. There's no pleasure in pain. Get over all that crap in your life and try to be happy," I said in a low voice, realizing how silly I sounded and placed the materials back into the first aid box neatly. I glanced at him and he was totally ignoring me. Of course he was, I couldn't just tell anyone to 'get over it' that didn't make sense and was wrong on my part. I sighed and walked towards him and managed to successfully push him on the couch. He didn't complain and his face was still the same, devoid of any emotion.

"Let's hope you don't get any infection . . . Now sit here Brownie and don't you dare move. Since you injured your hands, looks like you're going to get fed by mamma George," I said playfully and came back carrying his soup bowl in my hands. I hummed like a bee and stood right in front of Clark. He didn't even look at me and his hands were clasped together as he stared intently at the shiny floor. It was odd to feed an arrogant man in his twenties who was older than me. I put the spoon into the bowl and held it in the front of his mouth. I tapped my feet, trying to draw his attention and he looked up. His dark brown hair was disheveled and his light brown eyes hidden behind his glasses.