Everything Sinister

Six

I often told her nightmares only belong to nights, so if you keep a light in your mind, they will never return.

~

I wanted him to think the worst of me. Because my dear agent, I didn't murder him. I killed him. And you shouldn't let me forgive myself.

~LA

~

I filled the injection with the liquid, tapped it and pushed out all the air bubbles. I leaned above Sheila.

"What are you doing?"

Demont grabbed my wrist and turned me away from my protegé. I looked at him with surprise. His grip was crushing my wrist and his gaze was angrily eyeing the needle. His jaw was set and his eyes dark.

"She's in pain. She doesn't need to be awake for this. I already know enough." I frowned.

"How do you know it won't hurt her?"

"I know."

"What if you inject it in a bad place? What if she's bleeding internally?"

I was about to snap something when Sheila called out.

"Demont."

We turned to Sheila.

"Lovelle has a medical degree."

Godness. It sounded so dramatic now that I think about it.

Demont was so surprised, he let go of me and sat back in the chair with an astonished face. I looked at him coldly.

"I am not the one who hurt her."

He was frustrated with the wrong person.

I took my phone and turned the flashlight on, to calm Demont. He held it while I pushed the needle in. I didn't flinch when Sheila sobbed. We waited for the drug to work. Her eyes closed in slumber.

I walked to her shoulder. It was really dislocated. She must've been in pain. I set it right. The ugly crack made me close my eyes for a short moment. A bruise was forming on her hand. I didn't comment on it. I took ice from the freezer and put them on her forming bruises. I set her nose right too. Demont stood in the corner, gloomily. Unmovingly and seething.

"Take those gloves," I said soberly. Demont did that quietly. I showed him how to clean her cuts. And I started stitching the gash on her eyebrow. I checked her head thoroughly. She needed three stitches.

I lifted the ice pack and softly worked lotion in her skin. The bruises wouldn't form as well hopefully. I knew she would hate that.

"Demont I need to cut up her clothes to check for anything more."

He nodded absently and turned around.

I cut up her shirt. There was nothing I hadn't checked before, but I needed to make sure. And she wouldn't appreciate waking up in bloody clothes.

I discarded her clothes and wrapped the poor girl in a blanket. She was a bit pale, but I was going to stay up all night to watch her.

If I could go to a hospital... Fuck.

I cleaned up the mess. Demont was sitting on the chair, his head in his hands, still turned away from Sheila. I took her in my arms.

"Turn the lights off, will you?"

He looked back at me with bewildered, horrified eyes. I ignored him and made my way up with my protegé in my arms.

It was a long time that I held like this. I used to stay up late just to make sure, she'd sleep well. Her face was so sweet when she slept. She was a drooler and mumbled from her sleep sometimes. But often, especially when she first came here, her face would scrunch up and a tear would slide down her cheek.