"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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selphie_trabia
The faceless fear
[ *  *  * ]
((Co-written with Inky))

Once again, Sarah was unable to notice or even hear the announcements, or even the two people she ignored leaving. The sounds washed over her like a loud drone as the wound on Brendan's leg expanded to fill her entire field of vision. She resisted the urge to vomit at the sight of the blood and open tissue. She took a deep breath in and then slowly exhaled it.

Her father had often stressed the importance of a cool head in an emergency first aid situation. When she was sent home from school for vomiting during a frog dissection, he had been extremely disappointed with her. She remembered that lesson well.

Sarah dug around in the bag that Stacy had handed to her, pulling out a T-shirt, which she wadded up and handed to Brendan.

"If it hurts, bite down on this, okay? Because it really is gonna hurt a lot. Lean back, please and lie down if you can," Sarah said as she unscrewed the top of a fresh water bottle. Brendan nodded, and laid back down on the rock.

Blood pouring from the cut obscured her vision of it. Holding Brendan's foot in one hand as firmly as she could, she upended the bottle of water over the top of the wound without waiting for Brendan to bite on the shirt. A deluge of water poured out quickly, flowing through the wound and dispersing the dirty blood pooling in it. Sarah could feel a controlled urge to kick ripple through his foot, but there wasn't much resistance from him.

Not much resistance at first, that is.

Sarah rotated her hand a little to control the speed of the waterflow, slowing it down just a little as she felt Brendan's foot start to squirm. She held on as tight as she could, but the muscles in her arms were fairly weak. A few flecks of blood, kicked off by Brendan's slight flailing, landed on her shirt. Thankfully, the squirming subsided soon aftert it began.

Keeping the flow of water on the wound steady, Sarah examined the cut, still keeping a grip on Brendan's foot. Slowly, she lifted the foot as high as she could, so that the actual foot was above Brendan's head, slowing the flow of blood.

For all the bleeding that was happening, the cut wasn't as deep or as bad as she thought. She couldn't see bone, so that was a relief. Still, it was deep enough that she could see the yellowish tissue indicating the subcutaneous layer of fat, which meant that the wound probably needed stitching as well if Brendan was to walk around. She squinted at it as the water continued to flow over the wound.

"I'm going to paint this with iodine and then slap a bandage on it. That'll numb it up some so you can walk." she murmured to herself, "It needs stitching, but we'll need to go where it isn't so sandy and blowy."
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