Blinded

Mikey, Bob and I are in the back. Mikey and Bob are playing some game on the X-box. I’m not sure which one, but I can hear the frantic pressing of buttons in between the sounds of splatter and screams. I’m guessing that they’re killing zombies, but I’m not sure.
I just sit there. Ray was in here a little while ago talking with me, but he left to get something to eat.

“Stop doing that!” Bob yells. I hear Mikey snicker, before a splatter is heard.
“Stop it, for fuck’s sake!” Mikey starts laughing.

“Gerard?” I hear someone say. I can’t place the voice.
“It’s Gene. I’m here to change your bandages.” Oh! Right! The tour-doc.

“Hi!” I smile to greet him, and soon I feel the couch give in.

“So, how’s it going?” He takes a light hold of one of my hands and starts unwrapping it. I shrug.

“Same,” I state shortly. He continues to un-wrap my hand. When the bandage is almost completely off, it starts stinging a bit. I wince.

“Do your hands hurt?” He slowly and carefully pulls off the last of the bandage. It feels like he’s ripping it off though. He takes a light hold of my uncovered hand and turns it over – probably studying the process.

“Yeah.” He lets go of my hand, and I hear a click followed by a ruffle.

“All the time or just now?” He sounds a bit distracted. He’s probably looking for something.

“Just when I put pressure on them.” I hear him put his bag down on the floor.
“And now,” I add. I hear some plastic crackle and something soft-sounding being torn apart. Then I hear a cap being screwed off and liquid splashing.

“This might sting a bit.” I prepare myself for a light sting, but once the cold…something is put against my hand, I have to bite my lip in order to control myself and not pull my hand away. It hurts like a motherfucking bitch!
“Sorry. But I have to clean the wound.” I just nod and bite my lip harder when he moves the cold cloth or napkin or whatever over my hand.
I feel a tear escape my eye.

“Hey guys. Have you seen Frank?” I don’t answer. Obviously I haven’t seen him, and obviously I’m a bit too busy biting my lip off and having my hand tortured to answer.

“No. Why? Isn’t he in his bunk?” The doc keeps dapping the cold thing over my wounded hand. I keep biting my lip.

“No. I just walked by and it was empty. I haven’t seen him all morning.” The doc moves the cold thing into the palm of my hand. It hurts a little less, and I unclench my jaw a bit. My lip hurts.

“Well, I haven’t seen him. Have you checked outside?” The doc finally removes the cold thing and ruffles with something. Soon, he starts re-wrapping my hand.

“I’ll go look.” The doc keeps wrapping.

“How does it look?” I ask him.

“Well, it’s better than yesterday, but it’s still healing very slowly. Just remember to keep them dry at all times. That way you will avoid any infections.” I nod. This is taking too fucking long. Not only am I blind, I’m also fucking handicapped. I have a great new-found respect for people who go through this every day of their lives.
The doc finishes wrapping up my hand, before he moves onto my other. I prepare myself the best I can for the pain, but I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch! Especially because this hand got more burned then my other.
When the bandages are completely off, I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut.
I almost scream when the cold thing touches my hand.