Thomas laid his hands across the puncture wound, “I’m trying to get it to close without scarring,” he informed me. I knew it burned, but it couldn’t have been very bad or I wouldn’t have been up walking, or at least I didn’t think I would have been. In all my life I had never been physically injured, I didn’t have a clue as to how it was supposed to feel. I had never scraped my knee, or broken a bone, not that I could remember. I had no physical scars of any such thing, my skin was flawless.

His hands felt cool against my skin, there seemed to be a strangeness, a tingling where he touched me. I could feel the skin mending, recreating itself over the gaping hole.

“Amy! Amy! Are you ok?” Thomas asked, he was fanning me with one of he notebooks off of my desk, a cool washcloth lie across my forehead, I could hear Thomas, but I couldn’t make him out, my vision was foggy as if I was trying to see him through a cloud bank hanging close to the ground in the river bottomlands. on a fall evening. My head was swimming, and I felt very nauseous. “I’m…. blahat….,” The words didn’t make it out of my mouth, Thomas rolled me to my side, handing me a towel, with which I immediately covered my mouth, I couldn’t move, all I could do is lay there as I was revisited by last nights dinner.

“No, you aren’t fine,” Thomas finished my sentence, “You’ve lost a lot of blood, I know I can heal it, but I’m not sure about the blood-loss, it might have been too heavy.” I tried to nod letting him know I understood, I couldn’t, even the tiniest movement sent me into the next round of emptying my stomach.

I started to feel a bit less nauseous, I’m pretty sure it was because there was nothing left in my system to come up. I tried to prop myself up a bit on my elbow, I was weak and shaky, but I managed a look at the bed, my side of the sheets were ruined. The cream colored silk sheets covered in a bright crimson, I knew what it was when I saw it. Although it didn’t help my frame of mind out any, my head started spinning again.

I remember waking to Thomas ever so gently shaking me just enough to make me stir. I don’t know why, but I seemed to have passed out again. I came to, just enough to, try to focus on Thomas’ voice, but I still couldn’t make him out, “Get, Nick” came out as a whisper, from my dry cracking lips. I licked at my lips trying to put moisture back in them, only to find the inside of my mouth was as dry as my lips themselves.