AncilWith Sara over my back we quickly made our way back down the hill to my home. My back felt as if it was on fire, the scorching sun beating down on the claw marks. Despite this I tried my best to not let the pain stop me from leading Sara back to the safety of the house.
Thankfully Sara had some sort of nursing skills because she was able to sew my wound up when we got inside and when she felt better. I asked where she had learned to stitch and she said that she had learned it from her father who was very knowledgeable in biology and medicine. She assured me that the wound wasn’t enough to become infected as the symbiote had to be injected deep inside of you in large enough dosages and only through enough internal bodily fluids like spit or blood. A scratch wasn’t enough. Even sex wasn’t enough to transmit the symbiote. Anything that comes close to a direct injection into your vein was what caused the infection as the symbiote can’t survive not even a millisecond outside of a fluid solution. But a deep enough bite would do the job. She also assured me that the symbiote spreads fast and if I was infected I would have already started showing symptoms like purple sores, tiredness and agitation and intense hunger. She still cleaned the cut thoroughly for me before stitching it.
Even though she patched me up there was still a bit of negative tension between us that kept us from talking much to each other. The awkward silences filled the air and her facial expressions made me feel as though she would have taken any opportunity to stab me in the back. She actually seemed like the type of person to do that. But the fact that she had spent so much time and effort on stitching my back up made me feel more comfortable because I doubted that she wanted to have all that hard work go to waste. Nevertheless, I still kept my eye on her. I wanted to remind her that I had saved her life but the situation was already tenuous enough as it was so I just remained quiet. I was already extremely intimidated by her and the looks that she’d been giving me since we came back from the school weren’t helping. After she patched up my back, without a word she went upstairs to her room and stayed by herself. I didn’t even bother to go after her or try to convince her to talk to me. Instead I decided to play video games to keep my mind off everything but Clive, Justin and Saraya were really enjoying themselves on the game console, laughing and screaming, playing a car racing game and I didn’t want to interrupt their moment of joy so abruptly by chasing them away.
“You guys have five minutes again,” I yelled over the loud noises coming out of the television and from the children.
“But what are we supposed to do?” Clive asked, in a stubborn baby voice.
“Yeah, this place is so boring!” Saraya added.
“Pee and go in your bed,” I retorted.
“But the sun is still up,” Saraya said.
“Who does sleep this hour? Bats maybe but we are not nockinal.” Clive said.
“Nockinal?” I asked, confused.
“He means nocturnal,” Justin said, breaking his silence in a monotonous and condescending manner.
“Nockinal, nocturnal, whatever. We just not that.” Clive said.
“He probably doesn’t even know what nocturnal means,” Saraya said referring to me.
“Of course I know what nocturnal means,” I said, hating myself soon after for stooping to their level and actually letting them get to me.
“What does it mean?” Saraya asked, standing up with her hands on her hips.
I knew what it meant but I would have hated myself again for having to prove my intelligence to a bunch of little children. “It means TIME TO GO IN YOUR BED.”
“Ha!! Wrong!!” Saraya yelled.
“I’M not even as old as you and I know what nockinal means,” Clive exclaimed confidently.
“It’s NOCTURNAL stupid!!” Justin said in the same monotonous and condescending tone.
“Who you calling stupid, stupid?” Clive gibed at his brother.
“Ey Ey Ey!” I shouted and clapped my hands together, “Five minutes are up. Go fight somewhere else. I’m taking control of the television now.”
“But what are we supposed to do?” Saraya cried.
“Go play in a sandbox or whatever little children do.”
With pouty lips and heavy feet, they all stamped out the room.
