Soothing

Scrambling amongst the rocks on the seashore with his older sisters was much more fun than making sandcastles with Mummy, Deniel decided, as he reached his hand towards the spot Desine had just left.  Ahead of both of them, Derobha, had stopped to examine something.

“Hurry up, you two!” she called.  “You have to see this!”

Her siblings responded by increasing their pace, reaching higher and further in an effort to know what she had found.  Desine, with her longer arms and legs, had soon caught her up and was also staring at whatever.  Both girls now seemed to have forgotten Deniel entirely and were chattering excitedly about Derobha’s discovery.

Feeling he was missing out on something, their brother tried to climb over two rocks at once.  His hand slipped, the world turned upside down for a moment, and he found himself lying in a heap, with a strange pain coming from the arm caught beneath him.  At the same time, he let out a wail of fear and surprise, which caught his sisters’ attention and brought them hurrying back to him, calling out assurances that they would be with him soon.

Assured that help was on its way, Deniel shifted position so that he was sitting upright, then stared in horror at the scrape on his arm.  His beautiful, firm skin, once so entire and perfect, had been broken, and from the wound came… what?

Horror and pain were overcome by curiosity at this new substance.  It was wet, and had already run down his arm to his wrist.  But he could see that the trickle was slowing, the liquid that had been inside him, unknown, unseen, was growing thicker and would soon stop flowing altogether.

“Let me see,” instructed Derobha, taking charge as soon as she reached him.

“Has he hurt himself?” Desine asked, half fearful, half exasperated.  “Mum will kill us…”

Derobha looked at the arm, pursing her lips as she assessed the damage.  “It’s just a scrape.  It’s bleeding, but that means it’s clean at least.”

“Let’s wash his arm in the rock pool,” suggested Desine.  “It won’t look as bad, then.”

Her sister nodded.  “Come on, Trouble,” she said, helping Deniel to his feet.

“What is that?” he asked, finding his voice now that the others had stopped speaking, and pointing at the strange wetness on his arm.

“It’s only a bit of blood,” she replied, matter-of-factly.  “You scraped your skin on that rock there, and now it’s bleeding.  We’ll soon get you sorted out, though.  Come on.”

But he hung back, staring at his arm.  “Bleeding…?”  Something about seeing that streak of… what had she called it?  Blood?... was making his head spin.

“Yes, but it’s nothing to worry about.  The blood keeps the wound clean, you see?  Gets rid of anything that might cause an infection.  Now all we need to do is wash it off.  Then Mum won’t freak out.”

She took hold of his other arm to lead him towards the rock pool she had found earlier but he still resisted, still stared transfixed at this strange thing.  “What’s… blood…?”

“It’s what keeps you alive,” chipped in Desine.  “It travels around inside your body, making everything else work.”

“Inside…?”  Now his gaze shifted to his stomach.  “What happens if it’s not inside?”

She shrugged.  “If enough of it gets out, you die.”  Derobha glared at her.  “What did I say?  It’s true!”

“Look at him!” the older girl snapped.

Deniel had stopped listening to either of them as panic gripped him.  What if the bleeding did not stop and all his blood got out?  What would dying be like?

He let out a moan.  There were voices somewhere talking, shouting, but he could not focus on them.  All his attention was on this strange new thing that he had never seen before, and that he was afraid would be the last thing he ever saw.

Then, suddenly, a new voice.  No, not new – the first voice he had ever heard, the one from before anything else.  The one that would always reach him.

“Deniel… Denny… It’s OK, now…”  And Mummy was there, and he was in her arms, and everything was going to be all right.