Free Locket full of Secrets by Dana Burkey

of the gauze and wrap fell away I could feel the gentle throb return to my arm. Some of the gauze had been a little hard to get off thanks to my dried blood on it. I should have waited for Steven, but was determined to see it before he was out of the shower. Using the gauze to clean some of the fresh blood that was now dotting my arm, I got up and moved to the mirror next to the door. The sight made me feel instantly light headed, but I pushed through, wanting to see just how bad it really was.
                  Sitting on the floor and scooting closer to the mirror I took in the sight of my damaged skin. I could see a few jagged cuts where it was clear glass had entered my skin. The skin around the cuts was stained with my blood, small scratches marring my skin further. As if that was not bad enough my skin was uneven under the cuts, covered with dark blue and purple bruises. With small amounts of blood and a clear ooze leaking from the wounds to top it off, I could feel my stomach rolling, no longer satisfied by the burger and fries I had enjoyed less than an hour ago.
                  Deciding I had seen enough, I was about to go back to watching TV when something caught my eye. Looking closer I noticed a small puncture mark in the crease of my elbow. The small red dot looked just like the one left after they removed my IV when I was in the hospital back in the spring. Thinking about it more I realized it could have been why I was asleep the entire time Steven was bandaging my arm and while I was carried to a different vehicle. The real question, however, was how Olena found a syringe in the simple first aid kit we picked up while stealing a new car.
                  “Are you okay?” Steven asked, suddenly right beside me.
                  “Yeah,” I managed, swallowing hard in an attempt to settle my stomach and clear my head.
                  “Come on, let’s clean up your arm,” he said as he helped me to the chair near the TV.
    I took deep breaths while he moved around the room before returning to me, his wet hair sticking to the side of his head. Using the first aid kit he purchased while I was still unconscious he began to clean up the skin and dress my wounds once more.
                  “Thank you,” I paused, “for all of this. You didn’t have to come.”
                  “Yes I did,” he assured me, making eye contact with me while his hands paused in their work. It looked like he was going to say more, but then thought better of it. Instead he averted his eyes back to my arm and continued his work.
                  Not knowing what to say I watched as Steven’s hands gently ran over my arm, cleaning the blood, applying ointment, and then wrapping each wound. His hands worked quickly, while still never touching my damaged skin harder than needed. I noticed he was using butterflies on the deeper cuts that likely needed stitches. I only hoped they would be good enough to hold the skin together and keep infection out until I could get it looked at by a doctor. Before I knew it, my arm was wrapped once more, this time without blood spots soaking through the thick layer of gauze.
                  “When this is all over,” he smiled while taking hold of my hand, “let’s not do anything with glass, or guns, or hit men for a while, okay?”
                  “Absolutely,” I agreed, lacing my fingers between his.
                  Sitting, looking deep into Steven’s eyes, the stress of the last 24 hours melted away. Despite all we had been through, it was a comfort to know I had him with me. It was great that Olena and I had the chance to talk and work through some of the questions I was dealing with, but even that alone was not enough to calm my raw nerves. Steven, however, was like a life raft in this sea of confusion I found myself floating