They put me in a bedroom with the Spanish guy. "I'm Carlos. I'm going to fix up you're wound. If you didn't know, we have another girl locked in the shed because of a bite on her arm. She claims it's a dog, but I'm not sure. It might be a walker. You're lucky that this is a gunshot wound, otherwise we might not have been able to tell the difference," He says, lifting my shirt up a bit to take a look. That's when I thought back to the girl, and how she escaped to look for medical supplies. "Ohhhh. Really?" I try my best to act un-suspicious. Carlos ignored me and went back to what he was doing. "I'll be right back. I need to get the bandages for you're wound." He says, and he leaves the room.
I sit there alone on the soft bed. My mind wonders to different thoughts. To the kid. To the red-head. To my wound. It was all too much. Almost too much.
Then I see the door open a crack, yellow eyes peaking through it. I hear the person gasp. It was the girl...
"What are you doing in here!" She shuts the door behind her. "Fuck. Uhh, you have to go. Like, now. The doctor will be here any damn minute!" I whisper quietly. She looks at me in fear, and leaves the room. I hear the tiny, tiny squeaks of the stairs.
The door opens. "Here. This should help." Carlos hands me bandages and peroxide. "You expect me to do this by myself? I'm not a fuckin' doctor." I look at him, annoyed. "Don't use that language on me. Now, I have to go and finish up the group discussion about the girl. And you. You stay here for the night. Don't move." He warns me.
He leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him. I sighed. Now, at least I have time to do this.
I grab the peroxide. "Fuck." I whisper every so slightly. I open the bottle, and put my forefinger over the top just a bit, so not a whole wave of it comes out and burns like hell.
I drag it closer to my stomach. I so did not want to do this, especially to myself. Actually, I don't think I can do this to myself. At all.
My mind races back to the kid. What was her name...Oh yeah. Clementine. If that kid had the balls to sneak into this house, grab cleaning material for a huge cut, and can possibly sew it up by morning, then I can do this. It will be fine.
I rub my hand across my forehead, wiping all of the sweat away. This was gonna suck. I grib the peroxide and tilt it slowly, the medicine coming closer to my stomach. And then, it gushed out of the bottle.
More than I expected.
"FUUUUU...' I say, clenching my teeth. "Ahh!" All I could think about was how cruel that Carlos guy was for making me do this by myself. Man, fuck that guy.
I rap the bandage around my stomach. It no longer felt like my guts were going to spill all over the carpet.
I closed my eyes and tried to not think about what was all happening.
And I soon fell asleep.