Hey, I wrote this based off of a picture I liked a lot. I think it was called Hard Lesson, but I don't know who wrote it. If someone could tell me so I could give credit, that'd be great! Anyway, enjoy and yeh.
Today's lesson started well. We went up to the roof and Bro told me, again, how to hold my sword correctly and how to stand. I held my Katana perfectly, since I've been told how to hold it over 20 times in the last year.
Bro stood well too. He judged me on my stance and we began our strife.
As I said, it went well at first. I blocked every slice at my head and I threw every strike well.
The problem came when Bro used a different combination of moves, and caught me off guard.
"What the hell!?" I said, panting as we took our first break.
"I've told you before, you need to expect the unexpected." Bro said, tossing me a bottle of water. "I've used those moves before, just in different combos. You should have been able to stop me. I actually had to take it easy so that I wouldn't actually cut off a limb."
"Oh shut up..." I took a long drink of my water and wiped my mouth.
Bro stood, then, from his seat. "Let's get back to work before you get too tired." he said.
We began to fight again, and I was expecting his moves this time.
But then it happened.
Bro used a move he never had before, and I wasn't ready for it in the slightest.
I heard the ripping of clothes, and my vision started to blur.
It was only when Bro was already running me down the stairs when I realized what had happened. My side started to hurt like- well, like a blade had pierced it. Which is just what happened.
I started regaining my hearing when we were in the bathroom.
Bro had carefully set me on the toilet and had taken off my shades. He was telling me I was okay, and that everything was alright.
The last time he talked to me like that was when I was around four, and someone had broken into the apartment. He had been clutching me to his chest while we hid in his bedroom. That was the day he realized he needed to learn how to protect us. Before that we had just been learning show moves for the Katana, and hadn't taken any thought to actually using real skills to protect anyone.
I got pulled back to reality when Bro made me lift my arms so he could remove my shirt. I think I screamed a bit too. Bro had to resort to cutting off my shirt instead, mumbling something like "Blood stains are too deep anyway..."
He then started to wash the blood off my chest and side, and it hurt like hell.
Bro was still mumbling things like "You're going to be fine, you'll be alright, after this we'll walk it off okay?" I feel like he was saying it to himself more than to me.
After he washed me down pretty well he gave me a rag to bite. I bit it, of course, because then I wouldn't chip a tooth if I felt the need to clench my teeth. I really really hurt.
Bro started work on sewing up the wound, which didn't hurt as much. He gave me the rag too late, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I wasn't telling anyone anything for a while.
I think I mumbled something like "s'okay that you missed" before I passed out.
I woke up later that day, seeing that the sun had gone down and night was setting in. I simply looked around my room I knew so well, wanting something to be different.
Bro was asleep at my side, resting his head on the side of the bed, under his arms.
I lifted my right arm, A.K.A. my good arm, and put my hand on his arm. I wanted to tell him sorry. I wanted to make sure he didn't feel responsible. But it was, in truth,his fault. Not in an accusing way, but in a truthful way.
I heard something outside, and dismissed it.
I went back to sleep right as I heard Bro wake up.
The next time I woke up, it was morning. I heard the sizzle of bacon from the kitchen and the smell overwhelmed me. I couldn't feel my left arm, or my left side. I opened my mouth to call for Bro, but no sound came out.
After a while of listening to my stomach growl, I got up the strength to speak.
"Bro!" I called weakly, my voice cracking. I heard something drop, and spill all over the floor. Seconds later Bro was in my doorway, looking like a nervous wreck.
"Dave are you okay? How do you feel? Are you hurting anywhere?" He had crossed the room and started feeling my forehead and cheeks and chest, checking my vitals.
"I'm fine... I'm super hungry, and I can't really feel my arm..." All I could think about was getting some freaking bacon.
"You'll be alright, I've gotta give you some meds and then I'll let you sleep-" I grabbed his shirt.
"I need bacon. Now." I said, stomach growling again.
"I'll get you some, you stay put." He took my hand and sighed, getting up to leave.
"Hey." I said. "When can we practice more?"
"... Not for a while, li'l man..."