Status: Just another little drabble!
Boiling
One
Is white supposed to be a soothing color? Because Emily wasn’t feeling any less stressed out than when they stuck her in this room. She took a raspy breath; flinching as the air filled her lungs and choking lightly when she pushed the air back out.
She didn’t dare to move her lips for fear of bursting another blister or causing the thin, brittle skin to crack open once more. It seemed like all there was to feel was pain; pain and grogginess from the medicine they’d given her. Faintly she could hear the heel of her mother’s boot tap, tap, tapping on the linoleum floor somewhere beside her.
Emily tried to lift her hand up to feel the skin of her mouth but her arm was quickly grabbed by someone else, a nurse with his long, gloved fingers wrapped around her forearm. They were light and bony on her skin, she noted with a pang of jealousy.
“What did you say she did again?” he asked, eyes still on Emily. She felt a sense of shame closely followed by pride flow through her body at the soft sigh her mother made.
“I’m still not certain. I know when I came home from work I could hear her screaming from the kitchen, and when I got there she was on the floor with hot, near boiling water spilled all over the floor but she couldn’t have done what I think she did, right? Emily’s a good person, with a great head on her shoulders. It just doesn’t make any sense.” But the nurse knew that it made perfect sense. Judging from the lack of substance in her system, the pale, sunken in skin of her face and the nearly thread-like pulse they’d found on the girl, the man knew exactly what they were dealing with, exactly what Emily had done.
She didn’t dare to move her lips for fear of bursting another blister or causing the thin, brittle skin to crack open once more. It seemed like all there was to feel was pain; pain and grogginess from the medicine they’d given her. Faintly she could hear the heel of her mother’s boot tap, tap, tapping on the linoleum floor somewhere beside her.
Emily tried to lift her hand up to feel the skin of her mouth but her arm was quickly grabbed by someone else, a nurse with his long, gloved fingers wrapped around her forearm. They were light and bony on her skin, she noted with a pang of jealousy.
“What did you say she did again?” he asked, eyes still on Emily. She felt a sense of shame closely followed by pride flow through her body at the soft sigh her mother made.
“I’m still not certain. I know when I came home from work I could hear her screaming from the kitchen, and when I got there she was on the floor with hot, near boiling water spilled all over the floor but she couldn’t have done what I think she did, right? Emily’s a good person, with a great head on her shoulders. It just doesn’t make any sense.” But the nurse knew that it made perfect sense. Judging from the lack of substance in her system, the pale, sunken in skin of her face and the nearly thread-like pulse they’d found on the girl, the man knew exactly what they were dealing with, exactly what Emily had done.
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Sorry, this is a scenario that's been in the back of my mind for AGES and I could only just now get it out. Comments and criticism (especially criticism; tell me how I can do better!) are much appreciated! :)