Nails

Date/Timing: 12 December 2008
Setting: Bastien's school; Berlin, Germany
.
Bastien holds his hands under the hottest water the infirmary sink can manage, scrubs his fingernails with the brush—
A hand on his shoulder—
—jumps, brush flying, clattering to the floor somewhere across the room.
„Bastien, sweetheart, you've gotten it all,“ soothes the nurse.
„But there's still—“
„It's just your blood now.“
It drips—/plop plip—on the lino.
„Oh.“
„Let's get those cleaned up.“ She steers him from the sink—his feet dragging, head swirling—to a cot, pushes him down. 
He sits.
Blood drops—/plip plop—on the lino.
„Your father will be here soon to take you home.“
He shakes his head, murmurs, „No, please.“
„What was that, Bastien?“ The nurse lifts a little jar from the cart beside her.
„Please don't have my father come.“ Swallows hard. „I'll be fine to go back to class in a minute.“
/plop plop on the lino.
The nurse crouches, gently takes one of his hands in one of hers, smears cold gel around the nail on his index finger. „It's alright to be upset. You've been through something horrible.“
„I'll be fine. I swear,“ he croaks.
„Your father will understand.“ Moves to his second finger.
/plip plip on the lino.
Says—a squeak comes out.
„Everything will be alright, sweetheart. Terrible things just happen sometimes.“
„It's not—“ Bites down on a sob.
„Go ahead and cry. It's natural.“
Squeezes his eyes tightly shut.
„It's alright, Bastien.““
Shakes his head a tiny bit.
The nurse finishes his left hand, takes his right.
[Bastien wheezes against the ribs crushing his lungs. >gave the nurse more time to bandage his right hand<
„„Excuse me,““ calls a deep voice.
„„Yes?““ >bastien's eyes are closed<
„„This is the boy who saw what happened?““
„„He is.““
„„I need to ask him a few questions. For the report.““
„„Alright.““ Ties off the bandage on his right thumb. „„Do you think you're up to this?““
Bastien nods, forces his eyes open. 
„Would you like me to stay with you?“
Bastien tangles their fingers, swallows. 
The nurse sits beside him, takes his hands in her lap, calls, „You may come in, Doctor.“]
A short, round man with tired eyes greets, „I'm Doctor Hahn. It's my job to figure out what happened to Anaïs.“
Bastien nods, wipes his eyes.
Doctor Hahn takes out a pen and a little black notebook.„What's your name?“
[A whisper, „Bastien Gottlieb.“
„Tell me what you saw, Bastien.“
Presses] the heel of his palm against his eye, takes a shaky breath.
„Take your time, son.“
„Me and—“ Gasps. Blinks rapidly. 
The nurse squeezes his hand.
Tries again. „Anaïs and I were walking b-back from the library and about halfway back she kinda /squeaked. I asked her what was—“ Swallows. „—what was wrong. And she was stopped—“ Grabs a fistful of shirt over his heart. „—like this and th-there was blood all down her top and she fell down.“ Shudders, chokes on a gasp.
„You're doing very well, son.“
Bastien sniffles, lets out a shaky breath. „I got down beside her and I was yelling—I think I was—and she was just bleeding and bleeding and she couldn't talk or b-b-breathe and the blood was getting all over m—-“ [Shudders]. „She looked so scared.“ >more 'scared' than 'cringes' which seemed, 'ew, she's getting blood on my'<
The nurse strokes his hair.
Doctor Hahn makes a note.
„What else happened?“
„She grabbed my arm. Really hard. Then she—“ Bites the inside of his cheek.
Doctor Hahn waits.
Tastes blood, gags.
The nurse strokes his hair.
Bastien a deep breath, whispers, „Then she died.“
Category:Ficlet
Category:Berlin (setting)
Category:Bastien
Category:Bastien's POV
Category:Bastien (ficlet)
Category:Anais (mention)
Category:Lars (mention)
Category:Ficlets with images