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Subject: hes awake? Author: Trish Mindalin [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 07:51:55 06/22/02 Sat In reply to: Andrew West 's message, "Sucking Chest wounds are just god's way of saying slow down" on 20:27:23 06/19/02 Wed Something slammed hard into Trish’s door. She jumped, staring at the door. She stood up grabbing a comma in one hand and holding the towel up in the other. Armed with the blade, she threw back the dead blot and opened the door as far as the chain would allow. Her eyes widen as a man lay bleeding on her welcome mat. Well would be bleeding on her welcome mat if she had one, but seeing not many were welcome in her home, she didn’t think a welcome mat was appropriate. She jumped back grabbing her second comma before fully opening the door. She stepped over the bleeding man and looked around. No one was in sight. “hmm.” she looked down. He was bleeding, maybe she could do something. But why should she, obviously someone wanted him dead………but another person dieing because of her would not settle well with her conscience. She sighed before throwing her commas in the room. She looked down at him, looking for the most painless method to get him in. She couched down and slide her hand under his head, the other under his legs. She heaved him up, stumbling a bit before making her way inside. She feel to her knees when she reached the bed, well mattress. Once he was laid out she surveyed him again. Slowly she took away his coat, and a case he was clutching. Carefully she looked at the hole in his chest. Ripping off a corner of the sheet she wiped away the blood. She could barely see the end of the bullet. She thought for a second before she riffled threw some things. She produced as candle and a butterfly knife. That should do. A silver glint caught her eye again. She walked over and picked the tracer up again. She tossed it up and caught it before hurling it out the window. Trish sat beside the bed, next to her a lit candle a butterfly knife and a bullet stained red. A makeshift bandage covered his chest. She’d have to get a new sheet. Trish leaned over him. Wondering what happened. He was shot no doubt, but by who. What had he done? Slowly his eyes began to flutter. She leaned a bit more forward. She shucked air in as his eyes snapped open . [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]