Playing With Knives- LoZ

scene 57- sick

Wild groaned, slowly lifting his head off the table.
"Oh! You're awake. That's good."
He looked behind him at Twilight, who was holding the Sheikah slate and sitting by the cooking pot.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking at your recipes. Is that okay?"
"Yeah. Sure. I don't mind."

"I saw that you had a little journal in here-"
"Did you look at it? Please don't look at it."
"Um... I did not look at it. Wind might have, though."
"What?"
"He looked at it. And read it out loud. I made him stop, though."
"What!? He read it out loud?"
He quickly walked over to Twilight and grabbed the slate from his hands.
"Give me that. And don't you dare tell anyone what I wrote. Got it? I swear, I will beat you to death with a tree branch if you tell anyone!"
"Uh... sorry? I won't tell anyone."
"Good."

He whirled around and sat down at the table. He looked at what he had wrote and frowned. He had forgotten a lot of it.
Maybe he should write another entry. That would be a good idea.

~
Entry 7-
Hey. I haven't written here in a while. I died.

Twilight said that Wind read some of the entries out loud to him. I threatened him and told him to not tell anyone else. I think I overreacted a lot. I hope he isn't mad at me.

You're probably wondering about the "I died" bit there. I stabbed myself. And I don't regret it. Well, I do a little, but only because I'm alive right now. I wouldn't regret it if I had stayed dead. But Mipha had to bring me back to life. I wish she didn't. I wanted to see her. I wanted to see the champions. But she took that chance away from me. And the wound is still there. I have it covered up with bandages so I don't have to look at it.

I've started speaking. They seem to think that I'm better now. I hope they don't see through it.

I dropped a box on my head a while ago. I also met a girl named Morgan. She's nice. Yesterday(I think) I passed out while carrying boxes. Zelda says it was overexertion. It was really stupid because they weren't even that heavy, and I had only moved a couple. Now I feel like shit.

Zelda wasn't there when I woke up in the medical's tent. They weren't very helpful. I realized that I had come to expect something after waking up. That isn't good. That means that I've passed out enough to get used to waking up to a certain thing. And that means that I'm a wimp. Did that happen before I saved Zelda? I don't remember. I think I've kind of blocked that while experience from my memory. If that's the case, then I'm not doing a very good job.

I keep having nightmares about the guardians. That can't be a good sign. Maybe I should stop sleeping.

The others don't know what my story is yet. I'm not planning on telling them any time soon, but Wind keeps pestering me about it, so I might have to tell them. Then they might stop bothering me about it. I'd rather not think about it every time they ask me a question.
~

"Wild?"
"Mhm?" Wild looked up and saw Twilight sitting across from him.
"How are you feeling?"
"I still feel like shit."
He put the Sheikah slate down.
"So no improvement?"
"No."
"And that nap didn't help?"
"Nope."

Twilight stood up and walked around the table to sit next to him.
"So what did Zelda say it was, again?"
"Overexertion. Dunno why that would happen from carrying a couple of light boxes around."
Twilight reached over and put a hand on his forehead.
"Hey, what are you doing? Stop."
He pushed Twilight's hand away, glaring at him.
"You're warm. Really warm."
"And what do you mean by that?"
"You probably have a fever."
"And?"
"Listen, just don't do too much, okay? I don't want it getting worse than it already is."

Twilight stood up and walked away. What the hell was he talking about? Wild had been sick before and it didn't keep him from doing stuff. He stood up and grabbed his things.

Maybe he could hunt to take his mind off of things. Instead of, you know, hurting himself on purpose. Maybe he'd do that later.

He walked away and quickly found a deer. He took out his bow and shot it, immediately finding that he wasn't enjoying himself as much as he had hoped.

He sighed loudly. He heard leaves rustle nearby. He had probably scared something away. Oh well. He was already bored. So he left again.

He walked farther, making sure he wasn't close enough to the camp for someone to easily find him. He went further than usual, deciding that Twilight would probably try to find him, so the further he was, the better.

He found a nice big tree and climbed up into it. He didn't want to be found.

He adjusted himself several times before he found a comfortable sitting position. Trees weren't that comfortable. He took out his pocket knife and cut.

Slowly. It was satisfying to watch the blood drip down his arm. Another cut. And another. He inhaled sharply each time.

The blood was going down too far. It would stain his clothes if he wasn't careful. He wiped it away and cut some more.

He did it so calmly, so skillfully. It was like he was a master at the practice. What a terrible thing to be a pro at. A terrible hobby, really.

But he loved it. He loved it so much. It was just so... nice.

If only he could do it with an ancient arrow. That would be so satisfying.
That is, if it didn't kill him immediately.

But he wouldn't mind.
He'd gladly do it.

●●●●

~That was the most in depth cutting scene I've written so far. It's kind of weird. To think some people actually do that... I feel bad for those people.

Anyways, have a good day. :)
Wild sure isn't having one. He never does.
Fun.
:)~