Mom rearranged the medicine cabinet again. She never seemed satisfied with the way anything in our house is arranged. It’s fine, as long as she kept her promise to not touch my room. I scanned the various bottles and tubes for the rubbing alcohol. Caffeine pills, pain killers, my old sleeping medication that hadn’t been touched in months. Finally, behind a jar of some salve, I found the rubbing alcohol and a rag. Returning to my room, I found my patient awake.
Megan froze midstep, like a deer in headlights. I sighed and turned on the nearby floor lamp.
“Lay back down, you don’t want to aggravate your wounds.” I said as calmly as I could. Her eyes darted around the room and to the bottle in my hand. I raised my hands so she could see it properly.
“You’re at my house, Alex and that kid are in the living room. Now can you at least sit before you die of blood loss or something?” I tried not to snap. She backed up and sat on the edge of the bed. We exchanged looks, but she finally nodded, giving me the ‘go ahead’.
I approached and started to wet the rag. Firstly, I needed to clean her head wound, they bleed the most but will stop easily with pressure.
“This is going to sting.” I didn’t give her time to hesitate. She hissed at the cloth and tried to move away. “Stop squirming, I need to disinfect it.” She went rigid, but kept her eyes squeezed shut. Megan remained like this until I moved to a laceration on her arm.
“What happened,” she implored after some thought, “after Isaiah showed up by the bonfire?”
“That’s unfortunate” I commented. Worry filled her eyes as she tried to respond, but I cut her off.
“The name Isaiah sucks.” She didn’t find my joke funny. Retching her arm away, she glared at me.
“Answer the question.” She commanded in a steady voice. This girl meant business. I tried to end the conversation so I could get back to work.
“Flash fire.” I said. Megan shook her head.
“Try again.”
“We don’t know, okay? All I know is I have two strangers in my house and one of them is being a real bitch.” Admittedly, I did sound a little mean, but her shoulders slumped down and her eyes went wide.
“You don’t know who I am?” Now it was my turn to be confused.
“Am I supposed to?” She began to fidget. I felt like I hit a nerve, but I prodded on anyways.
“Alex said something like ‘I know what you did’, what did she mean?” Megan became stone. She stared right at her feet, unmoving, I don’t think she was even breathing. Maybe I was going about it wrong, I tried a softer approach.
“Hey, c’mon. I’m nineteen and I’ve been to prison. I promise your stupidness can’t outshine mine.” She remained a statue for what felt like hours. Just about when I was going to give up, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I hurt someone. I hurt someone real bad, and that's all you need to know.” With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
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