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I should. Taking a life should not be this easy. Nor should I be happy.
But I am. I’m so goddamn happy I survived another day.
Is it wrong to feel this way?
Is this … is this what Beast experienced whenever he killed?
I swallow down the lump in my throat.
When I’m finally convinced the guard will not get up again, I breathe a sigh of relief and push myself up from the floor. I lean up, but the wound in my stomach plays up, and I hiss in pain.
Someone else does too.
My eyes immediately turn toward the sound, and my heart stops racing the second I spot my father moaning in the corner. For a second, I thought another guard would come to get us.
“Fuck me …” he groans in pain.
I get up slowly, grabbing the bed to help myself stand. The wound isn’t deep, but it definitely needs stitches.
“Check if he’s dead,” my father says between ragged breaths.
Frowning, I reply, “You do it.” And I head into the bathroom to find the first-aid kit. There’s a tiny needle and thread inside. Not perfect, but it’ll have to do.
I sit on the counter and lift my shirt to look at myself in the mirror. The wound looks gnarly and oozes blood. I grab the tiny alcohol wipes and clean the wound, hissing with pain. Then I lean in with the needle.
C’mon, Aurora. You can do this.
I push the pointy end into my skin and bite down on my lip as I push it through again and again, sealing the wound slowly.
God, the things I’ve had to do since I got captured.
Old Aurora wouldn’t ever have believed it.
“What are you doing in there?” my father asks.
“Taking care of my wound,” I reply when I’m finished.
I put on a bandage and make sure everything looks okay before I lower my shirt and get off the counter. It feels better already, but it’ll take a while to heal.
“What wound?”
I step out of the door and look at my father. He’s sitting in the broken seat, taking in our ravaged room.
“A shard lodged itself into my belly,” I say when he looks at me.
“Oh …” He looks away again.
“Oh?” I mutter. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Well, it’s your own fault,” he points out.
My eyes widen, and my face scrunches up. “What?”
“You should be happy you’re still alive.” He clears his throat, rubbing his wounds.
“Well you should be too,” I quip. “I saved us both.”
He stares at the dead body, sighing out loud.
