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Lizzie dropped to her knees as she reached out quickly for Miranda's arm. Her eyes raked over her friend, and she felt was through her as she saw her friend's chest was still moving in a steady rhythm.
"Miranda," Lizzie called, her voice undoubtedly shaking. Lizzie looked around the wreckage of what has once been her house. Her eyes landed on a large piece of wood. Had the situation not been so bad, she would have laughed. Only a few yards away from her was a large dresser that she'd been trying to convince her parents to toss out to buy her a new one. It only figured that it survived when so little of the rest of the house had.
Lizzie stood up and picked her way over to the dresser. Beneath her small feet, splinter boards and broken glass threatened to rip through the rubber soles of her gym shoes. She stumbled towards the dresser and skimmed her hands over the drawers that remained. Yanking on open, her fist enclosed upon a white t-shirt. She hurried back towards Miranda on the grass.
Kneeling beside her, Lizzie lifted the shirt up. She clutched both sides firmly and pulled, the fabric refused to give. Doing her best not to scream out in frustration, Lizzie bit down firmly on her lip as she looked around. Her eyes raked over the rubble as she refused to accept the fact that this was what had once been her house. Near where the kitchen had once been, she saw the answer, a particularly jagged piece of wood.
Staggering to her aching legs, Lizzie's feet carried her quickly over the soft grass. She reached out and plunged the shirt onto the spike. There was a satisfying sound of ripped material. Lizzie pulled it off and ran her fingers over the frayed edges for any signs of splinters. Convinced the shirt was clean, she continued to find weaknesses in the material and shredded it until she had many long slender pieces.
Hurrying back over to Miranda, Lizzie gently dropped down besides her and folded one piece and pressed it to the area of Miranda's head where she'd first seen blood. Tenderly, she slid her hand behind Miranda's head, lifting it just slightly off the ground. Lizzie's fingers clutched two pieces she'd tied together, she slid it around Miranda's head and brought the two ends back together. She tied the ends, securing the bandage to her head.
Gently, Lizzie laid her friend's head back down onto the ground. She smiled slightly when a moan escaped Miranda lips and her head moved to the side. Miranda grunted slightly again and her brown eyes fluttered open.
Lizzie didn't saw anything at first. She waited until her friend seemed capable of focusing. "How are you feeling?"
Miranda moaned and traced her fingers along her new bandage. "Ugh," she whimpered. "I feel like a wanna-be pirate."
Lizzie sighed and stifled a laugh. "You look great."
"As long as I'm alive, I guess I can't complain," Miranda joked. She gingerly pressed her arms into the grass, and eased her body upright.
Lizzie waited close by. Miranda seemed to feel relieved as she managed to sit up, then her face winced in pain as she moved her left leg. Her small hands suddenly grasped her knee as she bent down, burying her head.
"What happened, are you all right?"
The dark mane of Miranda's hair shook as she knotted her fingers in her hair. "It-it's my leg. Something's wrong with it."
The pain written across her friend's face made Lizzie's heart wrench. She wanted to make everything right. She knew Miranda would need help. "What do we do?"
Slowly, Miranda craned her head towards her friend. "I'll be slow. But I can walk."
"But Miranda—"
"Lizzie! We have to find Gordo!" Miranda exclaimed. "What if he's hurt worse than we are?"