Helping an Unexpected Person
A.N. Once again a new story, like that's ever really new with me lately. This story does not set place in the magical world of Narnia but I've used Edmund and Lucy in it. Sorry about having 'Edmund Blake Pevensie' as Edmund's full name but I like the name of Blake as a middle name. I'm thinking I shouldn't have so many stories considering I keep starting a new one at least once every month. Tell me if you want me to keep writing these and new stories or if I should quit some ones while I'm ahead. Tell me what you think.
Lucy's P.O.V.
I was bored and waiting for the rain to let up. This was a huge house, sure, but there wasn't much to do here that I haven't done today. I've read half the books in the huge library mainly because I knew all the books from cover to cover. I looked all over the house for hiding spots in the house for when I play hide and seek with my friends. It's too bad they aren't here today.
I was just lying on the couch in the main living room downstairs listening for the rain and wind and to see if it would halt for at least 5 minutes. That was when I heard a noise, a loud noise, that came from outside. Above the noise I still heard a person, a man from what I heard, scream out in pain. I ran, opened the door and rushed outside. I found the man I heard scream in the soaked wet mud and grass with both of his hands on one side of his hip. In a panic, I ran over to him and suddenly realised what had happened. He had been shot by someone who must have fled afterwards.
"Are you okay?" I asked, but all he could do was put his forehead to the ground, close his eyes in pain and kneel on the ground. I slung his arm over my shoulder and helped him stand up slowly. He was hunched over in pain, still holding one of his hands in his wound, as he walked or, well, shuffled up to my house.
When we finally got inside his dumped himself onto the couch and slowly put his legs up over the side. I went to the bathroom mirror-case and got the first aid-kit. I knew how to treat these kinds of wounds. I have treated wounds worse than I expected his was. I ran into the living room to where the man was, pulled his shirt up a bit past the wound and sewed the wound after I cleaned it and put a bandage on it (The one that is in a square that has the tape on the edges).
"What is your name? Why did you get shot?" I asked him and at least this time he could answer me.
"My name is Edmund Blake Pevensie. And my dear you don't want to know why I got shot but all I will tell you is it wasn't for a good reason on my part." He groaned again and turned on his side. This wasn't one of the prettiest things to watch and he seemed to be in a lot of pain but there was nothing else I could do to help him.
"And what, might I ask, is your name?" He looked up at me with a stern smile of gratitude towards me.
"My name is Lucy Hollow. Happy to have helped you. But you should stay for the night, it is much too cold and wet to be outside and plus that wound needs to be looked at tomorrow morning anyway. And I can't guarantee getting you to a doctor by tomorrow.