Murder and Musicals

Chapter Twenty-One: Taco Cat

Trent knocked on the front door of Michael's house with his good hand, balancing the washrag on his stab wound. He re-pressed down onto the rag, shifting his weight on his feet. His hand hurt like hell. No surprise, though, since someone shoved a knife through his freaking hand. 

He had taken off the gas station reading glasses and the foundation he had been wearing had definitely been smeared across his hands by that point. However, the gel remained in his hair from his disguise. 

Michael opened the door and his delight quickly faded when he saw the bloody washcloth. "What the hell happened to you?" He nearly shouted and rushed Trent into the house with his hand forcing him through the threshold. 

"I need your mom, is she here?" Trent spoke fast, knowing well how bad his situation was. As he came into the living room, Ryan, Charles, and Drake stood up rushing over to him to see what was wrong. 

"What happened?" They all asked, Drake most concerned of them all. Mostly because he knew where Trent had been. He had accomplished what he said he would: He killed for Drake. And not only did he do that, but he got hurt in the process. 

"Just please go get your mom, Michael. She can at least provide something temporary." Trent winced as he sat down on the couch and accidentally pressed down harder on the washrag.

Michael went to the other room, almost running. Trent heard him call for his mom. 

"What did happen though?" Charles asked, sitting down next to him as Drake sat on his other side.

"If an adult asks, I accidentally stabbed myself while making a sandwich. I was reaching for the butter knife, wasn't paying attention, and put my hand through a sharper knife. What actually happened was that I-"

"Oh my God, Trent! What happened to you?" Michael's mother rushed into the room to Trent's side and grabbed his hand, removing the washcloth. The stab wound was in the middle of his palm, exiting through the back of his hand. There was blood on the rag, probably not as much as there would be if you sliced a major artery, but enough to freak someone out. It was slowing, but still somewhat flowing.

"Can you feel your fingers?" She asked him, examining the puncture thoroughly. 

"Yeah, but now that you mention it, my middle finger feels a bit tingly." Trent moved his middle finger a couple of small ways to show her he can move it.

"That's because your veins in your hand are damaged. I'm sure not all of them, but definitely some of them. How did this even happen?"

"I know it sounds stupid, but I stabbed myself making a sandwich."

"Trust me, a lot of dumb things cause medical emergencies. This is far from the dumbest. You should get to the ER, quick. I'll call your parents-"

Trent got to his feet, giving him a head rush. "You-you don't have to do that. I don't want to worry my mom, why don't we just go to the ER and get it taken care of."

"If they're still in the city, you need your parent or legal guardian with you if you're a minor. That's pretty much the rule in cases of ER." Michael replied for his mother.

"Actually," She began to correct him, "In cases of just the urgent care, he just needs to sign his parents' name on the form they give him and he'll be fine. If you needed your parents to come in with you, what would happen if you were alone?" She raised an eyebrow at her son.

Ryan and Drake raised their eyebrows at each other, smirking. Michael quickly glared at them.

"Anyways," She continued, "Let's get there before you lose feeling in your hand."