Blood-stained

The color of her blood was the least of my worries. I will deal with it later, I told myself. What bothered me then was how to approach her again. Oh! those fearful eyes! The hatred with which she was looking at me. No, I could no longer bear to look at her. I noticed the part of her left arm I held a few minutes ago had turned into an ugly shade of blue. I was afraid she’d shriek if I went near her and I couldn’t deal with any more distractions that night. I hated doing this to little girls like her! But, I knew this was the only way left and I had to finish the job as soon as possible. I quietly motioned the sullen-faced nurse standing next to her to hold the girl’s right arm. And before the poor girl could make an attempt to free herself from the tight grip of the robust woman, I quickly advanced to push the syringe into her delicate vein. She let out a painful cry. After attaching the intravenous tube, I took off my blood-stained jacket. I decided to go to the dry cleaners on my way home. Before leaving, I tried to steal one final glance; tears were still rolling down her angelic face. Huh! Pediatrics is no fun.

 

Written for godoggocafe.com/2018/05/29/may-29-2018-tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge/

 

All writings on this blog are copyrighted all rights reserved to solitarysoulwithachaoticmind.wordpress.com or Piyali Roy Bhowmick

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