A bead of frustration pooled on my sister's forehead as she pulled the black thread tighter. I groaned in pain as she finished her sutering, and patted me on the shoulder.
"Maybe we should get you to a hospital, brother,"
"Eh?" I winced as I moved upright, "you're a nurse, are you not?"
Angelina rolled her eyes, "I did one first training class, and failed it,"
I shrugged my shoulders as I lit a cigarette, "Better than nothing." I watched as she moved gracefully around her minimalistic living room, ignoring the groans and whimpers of myself.
She poured a glass of whiskey and threw a few cubes of ice in the glass, and moved towards me again. She shoved it into my hand and took my cigarette, took a pull and then tossed it out of the opened window.
"If you're not on your feet by the morning then I'm admitting you. If I have to put you out like a dog, I will,"
Angelina isn't quite my sister — at least not by blood. My mother found her cradled in blankets on the side of the road mere twenty years ago, and has since become a viable part of the family.
"Ay," I agreed, solemnly. She nodded once, and left me in her living room, on her couch. She didn't say a word as she shut her bedroom door but I could tell the strain I was putting on her now.
She is beautifully kind and generous, yet still strong willed. I felt awful for doing this to her, and expertly made the decision to take the bottle of whiskey and my cigarettes and make my way out of her apartment.
But, I didn't come far.
My head was throbbing, like a million galloping horses were running wild and untamed in my brain. The trauma to my skull was now ever present.
The wind swept around me like a beast, touching my pale cheeks with it's finger.
Was it wind, or was it death?
I fell to my knees, aching and freezing in the cold. Rain pattered down and I could ever so slightly see the rising sun through the mist and agony that hung like a heavy curtain behind my eyes.
I doubt I would see morning fully bloom now.
The presence of my Daisy was clear in the back of my head, I walked, breathed and lived only for her now. Only to protect and keep her out of harms way.
But I was losing so much blood from my head and I was definitely bleeding internally. But I kept on walking and walking until I reached the worn doors of the bookstore, and slid down the cold, wet wall.
I gazed up at the misted fury of the sky, at the pearly raindrops that fell onto my face. Breathing was pure agony, and so was simply being alive. My mouth was filled to the brim with blood, my sister's handy work on my face was now torn and bleeding again.
YOU ARE READING
CAPITANO | BOOK ONE.General Fiction
A black, heavy cloud hung low above the man's bowed head, the skin between his eyebrows tight with concentration, and frustration. His large hand gripped the pen gently yet he wrote on the white lined paper aggressively, as if he was mad at it. On...