The Puppy Project

32| The Struggle of a Good Samaritan

👻Zoe's P.O.V

I fisted my hair in complete frustration, biting my thumb all the while gazing at the unconscious and bloodied figure laying on the floor of my living room.

I would've tried to drag him upstairs but the fact that he weighed like a fucking horse crosses out all boxes of possibilities which only led me to the remaining option; pull him on the living room.

Why the fuck is he here? I thought. Of all the places he could've ask for help, he went to the person who he tried to kill!

There's only one way to find out.

I took a deep breath, carrying the object closer to his face before pouring the cold water on his face without hesitation.

A few moments passed. .

Nothing.

I immediately bent down to his frame and stared at him suspiciously. What the fuck? That usually does it tricks in the movie!

Ugh, should've known that was another scam done by them.

I felt a grimace form on my face at the sight of blood. This idiot is gonna make our living room look like a murder scene.

I looked up at the ceiling, mentally praying that my family would arrive home late. As in late to the point that that Aron regained his consciousness and is back to his villain ways point.

Right now though, he didn't look like the Aron Thompson who could bring a harm my way and so, I decided to be a good samaritan.

I took the first aid kit on the kitchen cabinet before finding a face towel to wipe off all the grime and blood on his face.

I leaned back slightly satisfaction once I was done and checked him for some weapons but instead found another problem.

"I'm fucking screwed," I whispered, my eyes gazing at the stab wound on his shirt that was bleeding blood like a girl on period.

"Why the hell didn't I notice this earlier?" I continued on, I felt the area around the wound and noticed that it wasn't that deep but he sure as hell needed stitches.

"What a sock! Going in here. . Haven't you heard the place called hospital?" I mumbled to myself.

I know for a fact that you can't risk moving someone with a cut and I sure as hell ain't gonna waste my energy and drag his heavy ass upstairs.

I hastily cut his shirt open with the kitchen scissors and placing his shirt on a garbage bag that I placed beside me.

"Fuck! I should've went to that fucking first aid program! Okay, calm down. Where's my phone?!" I stood up panicking, my eyes looking hastily for my phone.

I rolled my eyes when I realized it was only beside me and quickly took a hold of it.

"Okay! Google where the fuck are you? Okay okay, deep breath. How to stitch a wound?Wait no, a stab wound. Okay, search!"

A few minutes later and I was on the floor with the phone on my lap, a YouTube video playing on how to stitch a wound while I tried to insert the thread into the hole.