Fire Starter

Chapter Thirteen

Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year! x

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Zayn had been so mad when he stormed off after I had fallen in the kitchen that he forgot to lock his room door. He hadn't even closed it, but it shouldn't have been a big deal, because I was no thief and I'd probably have to remind myself that a million and one more times. However, I was pretty nosy, and maybe that was one of the reasons why he didn't want me in his room.

I slightly limped to his room to borrow clothes... he couldn't be mad enough to let me sit around in the same bloody clothes for some odd hours.

I took a bath, rather than a shower in his bathroom, hoping that he wouldn't come home anytime soon. I'd rather had taken a shower after Zayn than after Mason anyway.

What are the odds of finding gauze under the sink in a first aid kit, I thought after my bath. At this point, the cut was still bleeding, but only a tad bit. It was about the size of one and a half pencils. Maybe it did need stitches, and the last thing I wanted was for them to have to amputate my leg because it had been entirely too infected, even if that took me, kicking and screaming while getting stitches. I just couldn't be stuck with one leg for the rest of my life.

I hobbled out of Zayn's bathroom after cleaning the wound with peroxide, wrapping it in gauze.

Zayn wasn't going to take me to get stitches anymore, and quite frankly I wasn't going to ask him. I searched his room for some sort of device, to use the Internet. I found a laptop, booting it up. Fortunately, the laptop had no passcode on it.

Zayn's screensaver was a nature landscape photo. For a second I'd thought he had taken it off the internet, but I realized a tiny figure on the screen about the size of an infant's pinky nail and I recognized it with clarity though it was blurry when looking too close. The familiar black hair was there. It was slighty weird to see him in shorts, but that's what he wore. His face was too small to tell if he was smiling, but he was looking directly at the camera with his arms outstretched above him head. His body language would tell you that he was happy.

I looked away quickly after have been scrutinizing it. Maybe I was violating his privacy too much because it was a part of him that I had never seen and that he probably didn't want to share.

I'll just use the laptop real quick and I'll be right off, I think to myself, clicking the logo for the Internet.

I typed in the search bar, being redirected to Google:

Where is the nearest hospital?

Lucky they had detected my location because I was unsure myself. All I knew was the street name.

The nearest hospital was 20 minutes driving, more than an hour walking. I groaned. I could take a bus? But even then, how do I do that with not a dime?

Where's the nearest medical center?

It was 6 minutes driving, and nearly 30 minutes walking. I frowned. What was it going to have to come down to? 30 minutes walk or hobbling around on one leg for the rest of you life.

I took deep breaths as the clock had struck 14.00 which I came to realize was 2 in the afternoon.

I scribbled down the medical center's address, how to get there-by scribbling down what street to turn on, and Zayn's house address.

"Stupid stubborn me," my mind spoke aloud, as I limped with half quick steps in attempt to lessen the time that it would take to get to there.

I looked down at my calligraphy on the paper as it say to turn right on a street and go straight until I arrive at a liquor store/pharmacy, then to continue on turning left.