Adapted

Broken Homes

My throat stung as bile rose from my stomach, I managed to swallow it but started choking because of how dry my throat was. My eyes stung, I squinted and my cheeks became wet with tears. I was a fucking mess, I had no control.

When the episode ended, I manoeuvred myself so I was leaning over her. I almost drew back instinctively with fear when I looked down at her again, up close I could see how her limbs bent at such unnatural angles. How every inch of her was covered with blood and dirt. She didn't just look like a corpse, she looked like she'd already entered rigor mortis.

But she wasn't dead, and I knew that now. As much as I cursed myself for thinking it, it might've been easier if she really was dead. I'd never expected to be in a situation where someone's life was in my hands and I was drastically low on survival skills. I wished mum and Ewan had been here, typical they'd be gone when I actually needed them. At least I'd never have to admit it.

Her chest rose ever so slightly, but the gaps in-between the signs of life felt like years. The stages between seemed to be getting longer and longer and I eventually noticed I was holding my own breath along with hers.I knew time wasn't on my side. I was too afraid to look away as I reached for my phone, too afraid to even blink just in case she'd disappear.

A part of me was sort of afraid this was some sick, twisted, psychotic episode. The other part of me was hoping it was.

Her face contorted in pain, a slight twitch that caused me to freeze. Phone in hand, unable to make the necessary step to save her life. I was treating her like she was some kind of blind, zombie and one movement would alert her to my presence. In reality she was more like a Freddy Kruger victim.

A shiver caused all the hair on my body to rise, reality flooded back to me. I leaned back on my haunches, reached into the back pocket of my jogging bottoms, pulled out my Samsung and dialled nine-nine-nine.

They picked up too instantly for me to gather my thoughts. "Hello, Emergency service operator which service do you require?"

Police or ambulance? Ambulance or police?

"Um, Ambulance!" I decided, not as quickly as I should've. A semi-long beep later and another voice piped through the phone.

"Hello, Ambulance services. What's the address of the emergency?" The voice was deliberately calm. I tried to mimic her control but my voice couldn't stop quivering.

The girl's hand was spasming against a piece of broken wood as I gave all of the formalities. The banging sounded like a drum, an ominous, constant tune that drowned out my ability to think. The operator kept assuring me that the ambulance would be there soon, but I knew the hospital was at least twenty minutes away- not counting traffic.

"Just keep talking to me, keep me up to date on her condition."

I could barely hear her let alone communicate to her. I was too busy studying the girl, praying that she would keep breathing, keep showing me she was still there.

"Can you see where her wound is?"

It was hard to see past all the blood and to be honest, I didn't want to go looking. I felt as though I were in a CSI show. Could a crazed killer be in Cornwood?

"It would really help the paramedics act faster if they knew where she was injured. It would also help me instruct you on how to help her. You need to put pressure on the wound, Charlie."

The operators logic didn't make me any less terrified. What she was asking would mean I'd have to touch her! Me- who always did more harm than good!