Bang. Bang. Bang.
I grumbled, turning on my opposite side.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I groaned in frustration, sitting up. Another string of banging on the front door made it obvious that Mary wasn't going to answer the door — which was unusual, but in the moment I didn't pay to much attention to it. I stood, exiting my room and trudging to the door as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.
I know I wasn't supposed to leave my room at this hour but Mary wasn't going to get it and what if it was Mister Arlington.
Unlocking the door I opened up the entrance, revealing Tobias leaning up against the brick wall outside.
"Who in gods name locked the fucking door," he hissed. He didn't let me answer, instead moving straight on with his next question. "Where is Mary? I need her here now." He pushed off of the wall, entering the house with his arm clutching something underneath his coat. He swayed, making me lunge my arms forward to steady him.
I looked up at him, concern etched onto my face. Before I could mouth any words to ask if he was okay, I smelt something metallic in the air. Looking down, I noticed droplets of blood on the floor, dripping from somewhere underneath his coat.
Suddenly he turned into a dead weight, causing me to stumble back in surprise from the extra load. I tried my best to keep myself upright, but seeing that I wasn't going to be able to balance myself without dropping Mister Arlington, I lowered him to the floor before I tripped over my feet, landing on my back side.
Ignoring my temporary irritating pain I scooted over to Tobias's side, flipping his coat so it revealed his injury. I frowned when I saw his white button up stained red. Without a second thought I unbuttoned his shirt, moving it to the sides before searching him for his wound.
In his abdomen was an open hole, the size of a bullet. Although I wasn't an expert on removing bullets and patching people up, I had seen my mother do for my father enough times to remember what I had to do in this situation.
Tying my hair up in a messy bun I ripped a dry part from his button up shirt, folding it before I placed it on his wound then put his hand over the top. With that being done I stood an ran to grab supplies. I made a short stop at Mary's room, finding her completely passed out on her bed, a brown glass bottle in her hand. Pills. She would never wake up in time to help me, so it looked like I was in my own.
I was glad that he was passed out, otherwise I would've hated to see the pain in his face as I removed the bullet.
I remember my mother had gotten shot before. My father didn't waste time in giving her a drug to put her to sleep so I had to hold onto her hand as he removed the bullet and stitched the wound up. It was safe to say I emptied my guts that night.
Taking in a deep inhale and an exhale I grabbed the tweezers that were in the med kit, with one hand I took the cover off of the wound before opening it up just enough for me to see the butt of the bullet, biting down on my tongue I inserted the tweezers. My face scrunched into a cringe as I touched the flesh surrounding the bullet, with some difficulty I finally managed to grab hold of the slick bullet and pull it out.
Once that was done I quickly grabbed the antiseptic bottle, tipping some onto a cloth before dabbing it around and on the wound. I grabbed out a needle and stitching thread, cringing as I looked down at the wound.
It couldn't be that hard? Just pretend that I'm sewing up a cushion. Mother used to rip holes in the cushions all the time so that she could hide her drugs and I would always have to sew them up.
With a determined nod I threaded the needle and pinched his skin together, pushing the needle through the skin and weaving it in a zigzag pattern. Once the wound was sealed up I cleaned up the blood on his skin and taped an antiseptic drenched pad on top of his wound.
I sighed in relief once it was all done. I frowned as I looked at all the other scars on his chest, some even disappeared below his waistband. Hesitantly I placed a finger on one of his bigger scars and traced it from his shoulder down to the middle of his chest.
I wonder what happened to cause all of these. I sighed pulling away and turning to clean up the supplies I had used. As I was cleaning up his head snapped up and his body jerked. I quickly put my hands on his chest and pushed him back down to the floor vigorously shaking my head before I pointed down to his wound.
He calmed down the moment he saw me before sitting up slightly and looking at his wound. He sighed, wiping off the sweat on his forehead.
"Where is Mary?"
I held up a glass bottle before pointing to my mouth then gently clapped my hands together and put then against my ear, gesturing sleep.
"Did she take pills?"
I nodded.
"Right okay then. Well, can you help me up to my room."
I nodded, leaving the supplies in a neat pile before I stood, helping him stand up. I placed one arm around his waist and let him put his arm around my shoulder. Together we shuffled up towards his room, once I opened the door I couldn't help but briefly look around the place.
It wasn't how I expected it to be.
There was a king sized bed pushed to the centre of the left wall. A bear rug rested at the base of the bed. In the corner of the room was a black office lamp that hung over an old wooden desk that held neat piles of paper. A wooden chair was tucked under the desk.
As for the window on the right wall, it was framed by thin white curtains that blowed from the breeze that was entering from the open window.
"Just put me on my bed."
I walked him over to his made bed, pulling the covers back before lowering him to his bed. I pointed to the window.
"No, leave it open."
I stood awkwardly beside his bed, my bloody hands formally clasped together and placed behind my back.
"Thank you for helping."
I nodded. Although I really did want to ask where he got his wound from I remembered my mothers words.
"don't pry darling it may get you somewhere you don't want to be."
And if he was suffering from a bullet wound and many other scars I definitely didn't want to get pulled into whatever chaos he was dealing with. Although I wanted to die, I wasn't a fan of dying horribly, I wanted my death to be fast and painless.
"That will be all." He said, closing his eyes.
I curtsied before turning and walking to the door, his voice stopped me moments from exiting the room.
"Wait."
I turned my head over my shoulder.
"If Mary took her sleeping pulls then she'll wake up late. I believe you are able to make breakfast on your own?"
I nodded.
"Good, when breakfast is ready come help me down."
I nodded my head again before walking out of the room before gently shutting the door. I sighed as I made my way down the stairs, coming to the edge of the pool of crimson liquid.
I stayed up for an hour, cleaning the hallway and doorstep spotless of any blood. If the police showed up at the doorstep there would not be a speck of blood in sight.
Once I was finished I was exhausted, the adrenaline in my system had diminished long ago leaving nothing but a zombie behind. Once I dropped onto my bed my eyelids instantly drooped and I dozed of into a black abyss.
