the scariest situation i had found myself in had been the time when i had lost control of the car during a rainy night.
i ended up crashing into a tree, completely destroying the front of the vehicle, but had thankfully managed not to harm anyone else, and gotten away with only a few slashes myself.
i had been afraid to drive for some time after that. it was like every time i entered a car, my hands would shake, and memories of that night would come crashing in. it was as if i could feel myself losing control all over again.
and while that had been traumatic, i don't think anything could surpass what was happening.
it was as if i had entered autopilot mode, not really understanding or thinking about what i was doing. everything was going so mechanically, so automatically, that i questioned how i had managed to do it at all. on the other hand, it was a good thing that i wasn't letting my own feelings get in the way.
jungkook let his arm fall limply from around my shoulders as i managed to sit him on a chair in my bathroom. grabbing a pair of scissors, i cut open his now almost completely red shirt, throwing it into the sink and turning the water on.
i grabbed his chin with my hand, forcing him to stare up at me. "don't you dare to fall asleep, you understand? don't close your eyes Jungkook," i said sternly, trying to ignore the panic overwhelming me as i watched the blood ooze from the open wound on the right side of his abdomen.
"i'm... trying," he muttered, voice so low and less threatening than i had ever heard.
of course i had put two and two together. the man the police were looking for fit his exact description, and he was also injured as described. that, as well as everything i had seen in his room, guaranteed me that i was in the presence of a serial killer. one that could easily kill me after i was done trying to patch him up.
and yet, all i wanted was to make sure he didn't die in front of me.
i leaned down, examining the wound carefully as if i actually had any clue of what i was doing. i had read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies in which the girl would fix whatever injury the guy had, but having it in front of me was a whole other deal.
i sighed in somewhat relief as i realized he also had a wound on his back, meaning that the bullet had exited his body. that much i knew; if the same bullet had damaged something very important inside of him, that i definitely didn't know.
reaching for a small first aid kit i kept, i took out some disinfectant and soaked some cotton with it. he winced as i pressed it against his skin, the sweat forming in his forehead even more evident now. i bit down on my lip, trying my best to be as careful as i could.
grabbing the now soaked cloth, i tried cleaning his wound with it before throwing it in the trash.
"you need stitches, jungkook," i spoke, feeling the tears starting to prick the back of my eyes at how useless i felt in the moment. "i-i don't know how to do that, and i don't have those things here, and you should go to a hospital-"
"no," he stopped me, his head shaking as his eyes closed. "no hospitals. i can't. and i think you know why."
i gulped, eyes now fully watering. of course i knew, but some part of me was still holding on to the hope that i hadn't helped a serial killer.
that i hadn't taken a liking for one.
"do you know how to sew?" he asked, breathing heavily. i nodded hesitantly. "can't be much different, right?"