Status: Critique greatly appreciated, nitpickers welcome! Don't be a silent reader!
The Key Chased the Blade
Blood
"John! John!" I screamed.
Simon literally picked me up and carried me away bridal-style back to his car. I realized I hadn't even bothered to close his door in my attempt to catch my brother. He kicked it all the way open with his foot and dumped me inside. I slapped at him. I didn't know why I did, but for some reason it felt right. Simon didn't even flinch and pulled the seatbelt over me.
The next thing I knew was that we were driving. I realized that there were bloody tissues all over me. "What just happened!?" I demanded. "Where are we going?"
Simon didn't answer. His hands were smeared with blood that in a jolt of memory I realized was mine. His expression was stoic and focused on the road. I fumbled for the visor and flipped it down. I saw in the mirror that there was dried blood all over the lower half of my face. I'd missed an entire portion of my life. It was like somebody cut a chunk out of my head.
"I'm taking you home," Simon stated. His house materialized down the street.
"Oh," I said. I was never more confused in my life. "Oh."
Simon didn't say anything more.
He pulled up to garage, parked, and then got out and opened the door for me. I was still wrestling with my seatbelt; I was having some motor control dysfunctions. Simon just unclasped it for me. I snapped at him that I could do it myself, but he just stuck his arms underneath me and carried me away again. That pissed me off. I tried to hit him but I barely had the strength to hurt him, so after a while I just let up.
Simon carried me to the bathroom and plopped me onto the edge of the bathtub. Then he grabbed a washcloth, soaked it in water from the sink, and then scrubbed my face with it. I spluttered, lashed out, and swore at him. He didn't say anything and continued to wipe my face. The rag turned a reddish-brown.
"What the hell are you doing!?" I demanded once he was done.
Simon went back to the sink and wrung the rag out under the water. He stared at the colored water going down the drain and said nothing.
"Simon!"
"Come on, let's get some coffee," he said, and he turned, grasped both my hands firmly, pulled me to my feet, and took me to the kitchen.
Simon literally picked me up and carried me away bridal-style back to his car. I realized I hadn't even bothered to close his door in my attempt to catch my brother. He kicked it all the way open with his foot and dumped me inside. I slapped at him. I didn't know why I did, but for some reason it felt right. Simon didn't even flinch and pulled the seatbelt over me.
The next thing I knew was that we were driving. I realized that there were bloody tissues all over me. "What just happened!?" I demanded. "Where are we going?"
Simon didn't answer. His hands were smeared with blood that in a jolt of memory I realized was mine. His expression was stoic and focused on the road. I fumbled for the visor and flipped it down. I saw in the mirror that there was dried blood all over the lower half of my face. I'd missed an entire portion of my life. It was like somebody cut a chunk out of my head.
"I'm taking you home," Simon stated. His house materialized down the street.
"Oh," I said. I was never more confused in my life. "Oh."
Simon didn't say anything more.
He pulled up to garage, parked, and then got out and opened the door for me. I was still wrestling with my seatbelt; I was having some motor control dysfunctions. Simon just unclasped it for me. I snapped at him that I could do it myself, but he just stuck his arms underneath me and carried me away again. That pissed me off. I tried to hit him but I barely had the strength to hurt him, so after a while I just let up.
Simon carried me to the bathroom and plopped me onto the edge of the bathtub. Then he grabbed a washcloth, soaked it in water from the sink, and then scrubbed my face with it. I spluttered, lashed out, and swore at him. He didn't say anything and continued to wipe my face. The rag turned a reddish-brown.
"What the hell are you doing!?" I demanded once he was done.
Simon went back to the sink and wrung the rag out under the water. He stared at the colored water going down the drain and said nothing.
"Simon!"
"Come on, let's get some coffee," he said, and he turned, grasped both my hands firmly, pulled me to my feet, and took me to the kitchen.
♠ ♠ ♠
I read over an old story I had on here. Oh. Em. Gee.I'm just glad I notice all my mistakes. (However painful that may be.) That means I've improved. :)