Blurry Face [Completed]

Chapter 6 - Soup

I awaken with a clammy hand on my arm. I gaze at the digital glowing numbers on my clock. 3:37 AM. I sighed, looking down at the source of the clammy hand. Kacey had sweat dripping from her forehead, her face unsettled. I move and get off the bed the best to my ability without shifting her. Placing my feet on the cold wooden floor, I look at the little desk lamp I never turn off on my bedside table illuminating the untouched glass of water next to the salmon - colored Advil pills and round glasses. I walk towards the bathroom, opening a drawer to the left of the sink where I always put little towels in. I grab a plain white one and wet it under the faucet, letting the cool water soak the cloth. Wringing it out, I head to the kitchen where I grab a bowl and fill it halfway with cool water. I carry it back to where Kacey lay. I place down the black bowl on the already crowded bedside table and wipe Kacey's face carefully, letting the cloth pick up sweat. Being an only child, you would think I was treated like this when sick. Instead, my parents used it as an excuse to leave without me somewhere.  I only learned this from a parenting class in 7th grade, therefore letting me know with a vague idea what to do if someone is sick. I wring the cloth again over the bowl, dipping and repeating the process. Her eyelashes flutter before clear brown pupils stare up at me.

"Kacey? Can you hear me?" I ask, trying to contain the sudden waves of worry crashing into my head.

"Where am I?" She asked, eying the room she was in, her eyes landing back on me.

"What do you remember?" I question, not wanting to say more than she should know in case she worried.

Her eyebrows crease upward, closing her eyes and reaching her hand to pinch the bridge of her chestnut-colored nose. "All I recall is going with you to Target, heading out to your car afterwards and before I could enter, I felt a hand over my mouth, two others grabbing my hands behind my back and dragging me. Then they got a syringe and injected my neck. That's it, from their I don't remember."

Anxiously, I undo her ponytail holding up her streaked hair, spreading her hair above her head for an injury on her neck. Sure enough, a small bump with a bit of redness behind her ear on the neck region. It seemed close now, no blood or anything but it sure seemed irritated. It was almost unnoticeable unless you lifted off her hair from her neck. I let her hair fall onto the bed  seeming like an aura around her head. Pulling her up with one hand and placing the cloth on her forehead into the bowl with the other, I steady her into a sitting position. She squeezes her eyes shut and staggers as she tries sitting up on her own. I can feel her slump from exhaustion as her body goes limp. With my newly free hand I pick up the Advil, leaning her head back and unclenching my fist, letting the red - tinted pills fall into her open mouth. I keep my hand on the small of her back as I grab the glass of room temperature water and help her drink. I lay her back and set the half empty glass on the bedside table. I wring the cloth and reapply it.

"Are you hungry?" I ask her quietly.

"Starving." She says with a dry voice.

All that sweating must have dehydrated her. I head to the kitchen, knowing I had ingredients to make some chicken soup. I pull out a tomato, 2 stalks of celery, 3 carrots, and some cartoned chicken broth. I set it on the counter, going into one of the top shelves for cumin, salt, pepper, and parsley, along with a single bay leaf. I pull the chicken from the freezer, running hot water from the faucet to thaw it quick. After it finished, I poured water into a steep pot, placing the chicken inside. After a bit, I placed in the vegetables washed and chopped. Stirring in a few pinches of salt, pepper and a teaspoon of cumin, I stirred everything, letting it sit. For about 10 minutes it had to sit, so I let it be, checking up on Kacey in the meantime. I enter my living room, seeing Kacey's dormant features on the silky sheets of my bed. She was still slightly sweaty but nothing like how it was before. I wrung the now warm cloth and soaked it, trying to my best ability to wring it. Placing it back on Kacey's face, I wipe at the beads of sweat gently. This was my fault wasn't it. Why else would they target her. It had to do with the company. Surely, they wanted payback for what you did to their men, they figured out who you were. You didnt finish the job, now look what happened, your only good friend suffered because of you. What will you say? How can you even face her. A single tear falls down my left cheek before more drip down to my lips and shirt. I didn't know what to do or say, what would I tell her if she ever found out I have such a shady way of life. I glanced at the clock, assuring I wasn't having another nightmare. 4:10 AM . . . The soup would be ready in around five minutes. I finished cleaning up her face, repeating the wringing process and placing the white cloth on her forehead, neatly folded. I wipe the tears with my sleeve instinctively, feeling the sudden urge to feel again, to assure everything is real, to watch myself bleed, to feel like I am getting what I deserve for being me. I hurry to the kitchen and turn down the heat to a low medium rather than smack in the center. Out of a drawer I grab some elbow pasta and the bay leaf, pouring it inside the pot and covering it. In ten minutes, it should be ready to eat. That's enough time to take care of your urge now, isn't it? You should try a new blade today, your old one is getting dull. I mindlessly head to the bathroom, reaching into the tub and throwing away the old razor blade. I shuffle through the drawer in the bathroom until I come across the clear plastic box holding several replacement razor blades. I pull a clean one out, placing the box back and closing the drawer. I pull um my sleeve, watching as the silvery blade dances on my scarred tan skin. I watched as I pressed harder on my wrist area a satisfying amount of scarlet pouring out. I continues going up my arm until I reached my elbow. Looking at the multiple lines of skin pouring blood out, I watched as droplets fell to the floor. I sat down, grabbing some toilet paper and pressed on the fresh wounds. My arm was numbing and I couldn't feel the sting as I pressed with forcible pressure. The snowy white paper quickly turned crimson, soaked. Throwing it away, I swipe with new paper. I repeat until I get tired of replacing, around 2 minutes later, grabbing a gauze box from under the cabinet and wrapping it around me. I grab some medical tape and drape it over the gauze, coming to my hand and wrapping it over my wrist down to my palms. Dragging a clean cloth over the bloody floor, I threw the ruined towel into the sink, letting warm water run over it. I placed the newly used blade into the bathtub, in the usual corner where it would never get wet unless touched. I pulled my sleeve down, my mind growing fuzzy as I walked to the kitchen to turn of the stove top. Opening the lid, I took out a fork from the utensils drawer and stabbed a carrot. The fork easily slid in all the way. Next I checked the chicken, stirring up the soup. Prying a thigh open, all the flesh of the chicken was tender and white. I take out the ladle, pouring in the soup with a chicken leg. The soup steam rises, giving a sweet smell of chicken blended with vegetables. I pull out a spoon and carefully carry it to the bedside table. I glance up at Kacey, worn down and tired, thirsty and hungry.

"Kacey? Kacey?" I shake her gently to wake her up.

Her mouth was slightly open when she sleeps I realized. I shake her harder, until she stirs. She blinks and opens her eyes. She sits up fairly quick and starts coughing. I feel my eyebrows raise and scrunch.

"You okay?" I ask her.

She nods weakly, falling back onto the bed holding her temples. I stir the bowl next to her to try cooling it down at the very least.

"Can you prop yourself against the wall or do you need help?" I ask again, not wonting to seem invasive.

"It's fine, I can do it." She croaks out, she seemed to be doing better before but now she may have worsened.

The floor quietly creaked as she heaved her body onto the wall in a sitting position. I grab a carrot and celery piece with some broth, feeding her. She gladly east it, holding her mouth with her hand, realizing how hot it was. I apologized, blowing on the spoon before feeding anything to her. I feed her until the bowl is empty. I glance at the clock,
5:00 AM glowed white against black. I sighed, as I knew if she didn't get better and got any worse, at this rate we would have to miss school; there was no way in hell I was leaving her alone. Another coughing fit brought me out of my thoughts. I felt her forehead which was definitely heating up. Hurrying to the bathroom, I look for any medicine that might help. I look at fever medicine and settle with that to help headaches, congestion, and coughing. I pour a lid full, putting it to Kacey's lips and making her drink it. What now. Am I just suppose to keep attending her? I place the medicine on the bedside table when Kacey glances at something. I look at her and tilt my head.

"Why is the bandages coming out of your left arm? Did you hurt yourself?" She asked.

That hit me. I knew she meant if something happened and not me actually purposefully hurting myself but my brain couldn't help it.

"Yeah, I accidentally burned my hand when making the soup." I lied . . . You know, like a liar.

"Let me see." She said simply, her face unreadable.

"No-no it's okay really its something small." I said, persistently.

"If it was small why the bandages when you could use a band-aid?" She countered.

"Just to be safe, duh." I said trying to sound confident.

"Okay then, why is their blood dripping from them?" She asked, pointing at my right arm.

Then is when I noticed she was right, blood was dripping onto the floor and blood was even seeping through some of my sleeve in blotches. I ran to the bathroom, undoing the bandages and sure enough a few cuts weren't closing. I shuffled with my free arm some ointment. I turned on the cold water of the sink, sticking my arm underneath and letting the blood wash off. The sink was soon pink so I wiped my arm dry althought blood kept returning. As quickly as possible I put the ointment on my cuts and bandage it with fresh gauze. Taping it up, I clean the floor of the mess. I gaze around and put everything back, my mind now going completely fuzzy. Then everything goes blank and black.