Running (On hold)

Chapter Five.

The warm water ran through my hair and down my back. I lent against the wall of the shower and listened to the sound of the sprays hitting the edges of the plastic bag that roughly covered my bullet wound. John had said that it would probably be best not to have the high pressured water hit it directly and to maybe just dab it with a sponge to keep it clean without opening up the wound any more.

Each droplet of water contained a new thought that would echo around my head. I thought about the events of the day before. Why was I being chased? Who was after me? And was I safe even with John protecting me? Each different idea jabbed me with pain and confusion; creating more ideas, thoughts and questions. So I came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. What would be would be and nothing I could do would change that.

When I got out of the shower I sat on a faded blue towel on the floor of the bathroom dabbing my shoulder with the cleanest sponge I could find. The wound had a crimson circle of dry blood surrounding it but apart form that it didn't look too bad. There was a dark hole that was about 5mm in diameter and the opening had crusted over and dried up a bit. It sent a horrific pain running through me every time the sponge touched it, but I knew that cleaning it would do it good.

When I had managed to clean the wound sufficiently I slipped into was I suppose were some of Laura's old clothes. They were too big for me, but they were better than my clothes that were stained with blood. The baggy grey jumper hung from my shoulders and the sleeves passed over my hands. The worn jeans that John had given me trailed on the ground and if it wern't for the belt that secured the trousers around my waist the waistband would hang around my knees.

I climbed down the stairs with my wet hair dripping down my back; I couldn't dry it or tie it up because the pain in my shoulder would cause me to collapse if I raised my arm. When I arrived in the kitchen John was already sat down eating his way through a plate covered with bacon and scrambled eggs. He looked up when I walked in and a sad smile spread across his face "You found the clothes I put out then?" he asked.

"Yes thanks." he had put the clothes outside the door of my room along with a clean towel that morning.

"There is some bacon and eggs in the oven for you and there is orange juice in the fridge if you want it. I'm going to go out to check the sheep." He picked his plate off the table and placed it by the sink. He acted so natural, it wasn't like people were trying to kill me or anything!

"Thank you" I managed to say, I couldn't get over the fact that people were hunting me and trying to kill me and John was going about his daily business making cooked breakfast and tending to the sheep. "umm John are there any bandages around here for my shoulder?" I asked carefully. I was scared he would flip like he had the day before. That he would suddenly get angry and start shouting at me. I didn't want to make him angry if my life was in his hands I had to be careful about what I said and what I asked.

"There might be a few somewhere" he replied, "but before we bandage it we are going to have to check that the bullet isn't still in your body."

"Do we need to go to a doctor or something?" I asked slowly; but he seemed to be in a good mood so I didn't think the question would upset him.

"No need for the doctor. I you would mind cleaning that knife and I will have a look when I'm finished with the sheep." He gestured towards the large sharp carving knife that lay on the side board glistening in the sunlight that shone through the window. He couldn't have been serious! He was thinking of cutting into my shoulder with a carving knife to look for a bullet that might not even be there. God only knew if he had any experience or not. But I didn't get a chance to question him before I heard the front door slam shut.

I cleaned the knife with shaking hands hoping that I had just got the wrong idea and that maybe he wanted the knife for something completely different but I wouldn't know until he came back after checking the sheep.

I heard Flinn scratching at the door first and I walked over from the kitchen to open it. I had just been sat in the kitchen lost in my own thoughts. I didn't dare think how long I had been sat there doing nothing; that can't have been a very good impression on John. He probably thinks that I'm lazy, weak and a dead weight to have around. But I suppose he was the one who invited me; he can't exactly turn me away now just because I'm unhelpful. Flinn had already snuggled into his bed by the time that John came through the door. He pulled his muddy wellies off in the porch before wandering into the kitchen and washing his hands under the warm tap.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked as he reached for the carving knife that now sat on the draining board by the sink. I gulped as I reached for one of the wooden chairs. He must have been crazy. Completely bonkers. No sane person can think about cutting into someone's shoulder with no experience. John sat down next to me and fiddled with the blade between his fingers. My eyes widened when I realised that this was actually happening and it was really real.

"Did you clean it properly this morning?" John asked. I nodded as I remembered how much it hurt just to dab the wound with a sponge; how much was a sharp blade going to hurt it? I pulled the jumper down away from my shoulder so that he could see the wound clearly. John nodded "you might want to close your eyes Milly." I scrunched my eyes tight and clamped my teeth together anticipating the pain to come. I heard a slight click and then something cold ran across my bicep before a sharp pain pulsed through my arm. But it wasn't the knife, it was a needle. I opened my eyes to see a box filled with medical supplies lying open on the table with an empty syringe and a used antiseptic wipe next to it. A huge grin spread across John's face as he said "did you really think that I was just going to cut open your arm with no pain killers or anything?" he laughed. Actually that was exactly what I had thought but still I smiled back.

I turned out that before John had become a farmer he had been a doctor in the army so removing a bullet was simple for him. I had assumed that he had been born into farming and it was sort of a family business but it turned out that it was his chosen second career.

I hadn't felt anything as he removed the bullet thanks to the anesthetic that John had injected me with. John quickly bandaged my shoulder expertly and put my arm in a sling to reduce movement. I held the crushed bit of metal in the palm of my hand. The bullet was small and covered in my blood. It is weird to think that such a small thing can do so much damage. That such a small thing can kill, injure or torment so many people. Every person harmed by that little thing is a bother, sister, daughter, son, mother, father, family or friend to somebody. And that one little bullet can tear apart the lives anyone and it doesn't matter who you are. I never understood why anyone would want to even posses let alone use a bullet or a weapon. It just never seemed like a fair way to end anything, but then again life isn't always fair.