doctortakemewithyou
He shuddered, hand pressed against his abdomen and already slick with blood. I pulled him over to the bed and forced him down, ordering him to keep pressure while I dashed about pulling together a makeshift first aid kit.
I live here, in my cave. It's a good spot to hide, to keep away from it all. No one has ever found me here. In fact, only one person has ever even been, and they understood the need to knock, and the need to back off if I didn't respond. You might say that I loved them. I might say that I did.
"I can't help you."
That was it. After everything I'd done for you, you couldn't help me.
Thanks a lot.
"What were you thinking?"
He said nothing, just looked down and examined his shoelaces.
"You could have been killed!"
He still didn't reply, now gazing intently at the dust patterns surrounding his feet.
She took his hand and they were off, kicking up pollen into the air and making it shine gold and bright and happy, and he in that moment knew that he loved her, that he would do anything for her and to have her make him feel like this every day for the rest of his life.
"It's really stuck in there," he called, giving the car an almighty push as I revved the engine. "You're gonna need to bring old Rosie down to haul it out."
Fuck. Rosie. The bitchiest horse to have ever lived, and I was on her bad side.
Brin came to me when I felt I needed a trip. But not just any trip. I'd tried those, but they never seemed to quite fit. But then Brin showed up, and I began slightly regretting my earlier dreams of adventure.
I never found my calling. I guess it just didn't call loud enough. He did, though. So while I was left sitting at home he was off chasing dreams and stars too far for me to fathom.
Jim never did do the washing. His dirty clothes collected in a rumpled pile in the corner, which Bryson would jump into with glee, still too young to find the idea of a teenaged boy's used clothes repulsive.