Washing Off The Blood

I could hear Meena and Willow gossiping about William all the way down the narrow stairs from my bedroom. I grinned at their ‘’strategising’’ and closed the bathroom door, turning the lock. I had brought some clean clothes with me from my room. I had chosen carefully, thinking of what I might be doing in the next few days. No doubt fighting and a lot of running.

I set the pile of folded clean clothes on the tiled floor and pulled a towel from the pile by the bath, setting it on the radiator while I fetched some soap and a scrubbing brush. I pulled off the jacket I was wearing and tossed it into the corner. It was stained in several paces with drips of escaped blood from the loosened gauze.

I filled the sink with warm water and looked at my reflection in the mirror that hung over it. I was very pale, not white but my skin had an odd grey-blue tinge to it. There was no other word for it: I looked dead. My eyes were much wider than usually, and a little bloodshot. In fact, even the green of my eyes seemed to have turned a little closer to brown, as if they had a red tinge to them. My hair was a tousled tangled mess, and I could see that it had matted on the right side where some of it had stuck to my wound and been soaked in drying blood. The smell seemed to fill the small bathroom. Normally it might have made me gag, but now, in fact, it just smelled… the same way one might think of a scent if they passed a room where some kind of food was cooking. Great. Now I was thinking of blood as food. I was truly becoming a vampire.

I prepared myself to wince as I hooked my fingers under the tape on the gauze and tore it off. It would hurt less to pull it off in one go than to tug at it bit by bit, ripping at the wound underneath. However I felt no pain at all. How odd. Must be part of being a vampire or some crazy effect of the transformation process or something. I wasn’t complaining. It would save me a trip downstairs for the paracetamol.

I decided that even if I couldn’t feel it, using a rough bristled scrubber might be a bit too brutal, and traded it for a damp flannel. I daubed off the congealing blood carefully. Finally I could inspect the wound properly.

There were two puncture wounds to one side of my throat, small and circular. The skin was inflamed around them. They had swollen like a mosquito bite would. I laughed unexpectedly at the thought that mosquitoes were pretty much the same as vampires. The punctures didn’t look too deep, and in any case they had stopped bleeding now. I dropped the flannel into the sink, and the blood came off it and swirled in the water, trailing delicate streams of red through the clear liquid. It was almost artistic in a completely strange way. I turned away from the sink and opened the window ready to let the steam from the shower escape.

Then I set to the task of having a shower and washing my hair. The spray of hot water was very relaxing and it felt so much better being clean. I hadn’t realised in the dark of the hospital room that the blood had ran down my body. It was rinsed off, and as I stepped out of the shower I saw the pinkish water swirling away down the drain.

The End

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