dedicated to @VictoriaFrances, a pretty girl I befriended in late 2013. She's a band promoter, and very much interested in music like I do. I really think she's awesome!
KAILEY~
Okay, I kinda regret giving those pigs a nasty beating.
The cut on the side of my head looks really ugly. The steady pulsation of pain won’t let me sleep the whole day. If I had only known about the consequences, I would’ve been contented punching them in their throats. Maybe then, I wouldn’t have to miss class this day. Maybe then, rather than lying in bed all day, I would’ve taken my chances in socializing.
I just got carried away. Even if I’m regretting that I asked for a fight, a part of me felt really good about the brawl against the pigs. It’s as if I just released all the anger I’ve long been suppressing. It just feels so good. I have never been so, uhm, alive?
There goes the creepy side of me.
After arriving home, my cut was bleeding a lot. I had to use soap and washcloth to clean it and I had to tolerate the throbbing pain. The wound doesn’t seem so deep, thankfully, and probably the only thing I should look out for are any signs of infection.
I reach for the medicine cabinet and take out a clean roll of bandage. The blood is starting to dry up, and any minute now the gauze would stick to the open wound. Facing the bathroom mirror, I start to peel of the tapes holding the gauze in place.
“You better leave your wound uncovered for speedy healing.”
Although I did have the sense that someone's watching me, I still startle. With my eyes still fixed on the mirror, I see Cyrille’s reflection behind mine, watching intently with furrowed eyebrows. She doesn’t look pleased.
“Should I apply more Povidone-Iodine then? I want it healed by tomorrow,” I ask innocently, afraid of a possible flare-up of Cy’s wrath.
However, it’s all wishful thinking. “You’re just new around this place and here you go challenging boys and getting into a fight. I am very disappointed, girl.”
“May I bring your spare bandages to school tomorrow then, Cy?” I’m being stubborn, I know, but I never want Cyrille nagging at me for something I enjoyed doing.
She groans loudly, so I decide to stop. I know I’m not going to win this. “I’m so sorry, the sight of them just makes me sick. You know I’ve been through bullying too, right?”
“I understand you, alright. But you also had to think about the consequences. God, what would your housemates do with you if you suddenly get seizure attacks, an intolerable headache or other worse things?”
Sigh. I’m perfectly fine. I’d only start to panic myself if I find myself paralyzed, or getting strapped on a stretcher. “I told you to relax Cy, it’s just a wound. I didn’t crack my skull or anything. He barely hit me.”
She walks over me and grabs the bandage from me. “Just don’t ever do that again. Come, let me clean that for you.”
I beam at her, so wide that it had her momentarily surprised. “Why did you suddenly smile like that?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to do something for me. Not when you’re not happy with what I did.” I don’t remember a single time my mother tended to my wounds.
Cyrille aids my cut along with the scrapes and scratches on my arms. Erica and Marge volunteer to apply a new gauze on my head since they saw how I lousily covered my wound when they came home.
YOU ARE READING
Rockstar Serenade: The Verse
Teen Fiction"The music died before we even had the courage to sing it." -- Rockstar Serenade Trilogy Book 1: The Verse © All Rights Reserved Cover by @eecA_V
