Chapter 3
Johnathan quickly opened the door to his small one-storey house and placed the injured boy on the dining table. The boy had severe head injuries and blood was dripping his head.
"Welcome back Jonathan, how was sch-" His mother froze as she turned around from the kitchen (which was connected to the dining room) and saw her son with the wounded boy.
"Quick mom, I need the medical box." John said hesitantly.
His mother gave him a frown. "You know that stuff's expensive dear. It wo-"
"I don't have the time mom! Give it now!" John said, anger clearly present in his voice.
John's mother quickly, but hesitantly, handed over the medical supplies to her son. John quickly opened the box, but still failed to find the materials he needed; he was going to have to improvise.
"Mom, give me a bottle of alcohol."
His mother again gave him a frowning look. "I can understand some medical treatment for this poor boy but why on earth would you-"
"Now mom!" he yelled.
His mother quickly went over to the fridge and took out their only bottle of the liquor.
"This is perfect." John said as he took the bottle from his mother. He slowly poured a tiny bit of the alcohol onto the blood wound to disinfect it, and then gently, but snuggly, wrapped it around with a large bandage. He also noticed wounds near the stomach area, but didn't have enough of the bandage left.
"Mom, I need more bandage." He said calmly.
His mother gave him a sad look. "I'm sorry honey, the ones in the medical box are the only ones we have left."
John's stubborn look didn't falter. "Then give me something soft, but clean, a clothing that we have." He said.
His mother shook her head. "I'm sorry sweetie, I can't be absolutely sure that any of our clothes are spotless. This is downside after all…"
John hesitated for an idea, but then quickly thought of one. He took off his school blazer and dress shirt and torn off a portion of his dress shirt to wrap around the boy's body, which shocked his mother.
"Jonathan! You can't just do that to your uniform!"
"It's alright mom, my blazer will cover it up." John placed his blazer back on. "See?"
His mother still gave him a disapproving look.
"This little guy needs it more mom." He said silently as he finished the last of the wrapping.
His mother still had her disapproving look on her face.
"Well, now that he's alright, you better throw him out of this house immediately."
John turned around to face his mother. "And what, let the thugs beat the daylights out of him again? I don't think so."
John and his mother held their poses for some time before his mother spoke again.
"Fine then, if you're going to keep him, he's sharing his share of the food with you, and sleeping either on the floor or your mattress, got it?"
John simply smiled at his mother. "I couldn't have said it any better myself mom."
"Hmph." His mother turned away from him. "Don't be so kind to strangers John." She resumed her cooking. "You won't last very long if you're this kind to everyone." His mother finished.
John closed the medical box and placed it back on the shelf. He then picked up the boy carried him into his room, where he then placed him on top of his mattress. He then knelt down him and covered him with a blanket.
"It's going to be alright kiddo... I know how you're feeling…"
John silently placed his bag in the corner of his small room and placed the mysterious book beside the mattress next to the boy. He then left the room quietly as to not wake the boy he found on the street, just less than twenty minutes ago.
