Soul Ringer BoyxBoy

Soul Ringer 4

-4- Decisions, Decisions

I rolled over on the round cushion in the separate area of Jay’s tent. The warm smell of food drifted in from the shops outside. My stomach rumbled. I couldn’t force myself out of bed, though, so I pushed the hunger away for awhile.

I don’t even remember falling asleep. Someone (probably Simon) had to have carried me to bed then.

With me weary eyes  I scanned the visible part of the tent. In the corner Simon was stretched out against the wall with the other cushion being used as a pillow. He looked peaceful and content as he slept but I didn’t miss the bandages that littered his body.

Sometime last night he must have been stripped of his coat and left in nothing but his jeans. His chest, arms and forehead had stained strips of cloth secured to them, which were in dire need of changing. Had he been in that state last night when I’d first seen him as well? I tried desperately to recall but my skull throbbed with the effort. Had Cheshire done that to him after I fell asleep?

Groaning, I picked myself up off the comfort of the cushion and hobbled toward him. He stirred only slightly when I placed my hand on his forehead; his eyes flicking about under their lids.

I inhaled sharply as I took my hands away and they returned a terrifying crimson. Not caring, I wiped it off on the ground and peeled off the bandage slightly.

A huge gash ran across his head, not deep at least. But the blood that still welled up from under the cut skin was still bright and fresh. He grimaced in his sleep as I gently eased the soiled cloth from his head with the aid of water from a bucket that had been left beside the medical by his pillow.

One gold orb peered up at me sleepily; the other concealed behind another bandage. His lips moved, letting out sounds of pain and annoyance. Any words that he may have been trying to form weren’t understandable.

“It has to come off,” I told him as I worked.

He grunted and closed his eyes, wincing as I finally removed it from his head. Then I went to the medical kit and pulled out a fresh piece, carefully wrapping that one in the previous’s place.

“Simon?” I asked quietly. “How did you get out?”

His eyes opened once more. It looked deep into mine before fixing down to the right side of his body.

Following his gaze I saw the bracelet for the first time. It was a replacement for the collar he’d worn but it definitely wasn’t as strong, actually it appeared to be damaged beyond proper function. Around it his arm had been practically shredded. The bandage that was wrapping that one had been attempted, but failed miserably.

If the collar had been removed, that must mean he was to be executed this morning because it would only get in the way of them beheading him. It was obvious now that the only way he could’ve escaped was by waiting patiently to be sentenced and then running once the collar had been traded out.

Once I secured the one on his forehead, I moved onto bandaging his arm. It was horrific. There was no way he could’ve accomplished this mess himself unless he was literally going insane. I peeled off the sorry attempt at covering the wound. I nearly puked when I saw the white of the bone peeking out from between the torn flesh and pouring blood. It was amazing he hadn’t bled out. For the rest of the morning; maybe into the afternoon, I worked on cleaning and closing just that one section. Eventually I pulled the last stitch into a secure knot and snipped the needle free.

When that was done I decided to leave the rest alone for the time being and dispose of the brace incase to tracker still worked.  I returned with a plate of food and helped him sit up.