06-23-2014, 04:36 PM
The Ambassador had echoed the advice of the medic, hemming in Natalie's options for distraction. A frown creased her brow, and though she didn't argue she did ensure to secure the available details about their situation; enough to ease her concerns, at least, before she accepted there was nothing she could do right now to be of help. The eventual silence of privacy held more relief than she'd anticipated; enough to douse the irritation that they treated her special, offering the commodity of space when it was clearly sparse. The washroom was certainly appreciated. She wasn't even sure she had the energy to wash, but the blood on her skin itched, the desire to be clean supplanting the need to keep busy.
In the bathroom she turned the faucet, braced herself against the sink for a moment as dizziness drifted in and out. There was not much she could do to salvage the shirt, which she draped over the toilet-seat, but the grey vest beneath was okay. Not that she had anything else to hand anyway. She cleaned as best she was able; arms, chest, face. The water swirled dark, fading to dirty pink, and in her mind all she could see was Kofi, the gleaming slash of his skull awash in all that red. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed such horrific violence, nor the first time she had tended someone she'd known had been going to die. Leaving him at the hospital had been a necessary choice; one she did not regret making. But between the fatigue and the silence fogging up her head, all she could think was that she'd left him to die alone.
She unravelled her braided hair, slipping the hair-tie over her wrist. Though she couldn't wash it properly in the sink, she could at least scrub out the blood and dust, which she did with a monotonous insistence until she felt at least somewhere appropriating human. The damp hair was cool against her skin as she returned to the office. Ekene was still out cold on the couch, so she curled into the leather chair by the desk. She didn’t think she'd sleep in bright afternoon daylight, but exhaustion claimed dominance over her desire to stay alert. Her dreams lapped a rhythmic harmony, but were punctuated by something absent; she bobbed close to lucidity, but in the end it was the wail of a disorientated cry that woke her fully.
It was complete dark by now, but she didn't bother to flip on the light. The curtains were still open, casting ghostly luminance on the edges of furniture, and she could just about make out the glow of Ekene's eyes as she knelt by the couch. He was tangled in the blanket like he had been dreaming bad, face slick with sweat and tears. His chest heaved ragged, the blurriness of sleep and pain-meds still glazing him over, pulling him back into terrifying dreams. "Hey, kid."
She pressed a hand over his brow, but he only sobbed. She wasn't even sure how lucid he even was as he began spluttering words.
It turned out they had dragged him from his bed in the middle of the night, drunk on the thrill of tomorrow's - now yesterday's - plans and thirsty for violence. Five young Temne men, among them Ekene's brother. Eager to christen another to the bloody cause, to make the first terrible cut into the disease of Mende culture, they had coerced him. Teasing at first, amused by the disorientated, groggy and frightened child in their midst, until alcohol had fuelled them darker.
The story eked out of him slowly, choked and disjointed. How they'd forced out his left hand, cajoling at first, then condemning of his friendship with Kofi. They'd bantered, nervous of their first taste of blood, but Ekene had trusted them. Trusted his brother. Until the hammer came down. His brother had placed the knife in his good hand after, Ekene's vision blurry with the flash of white pain and stars. Do it, or you're one of them. Do it, or we'll smash your other hand.
Natalie had assumed most of it already, her first inkling of something amiss back at the hospital, but the detail made her sick. "Budge up."
She shuffled him over gently, trying not to rouse him from his half-sleep. There was not enough room for her to lay, but she curled an arm about him protectively. He relaxed a fraction into her side. "No-one's coming for you tonight. Go back to sleep."
--
Natalie woke properly in grey dawn light, Ekene breathing steady and quiet, curled tight into her side. Her limbs ached, but her head felt clear - which in itself fostered enough relief to override the discomfort of an awkward night's sleep. She extricated herself carefully and left him under the fireblanket, swilling her mouth out with water from the taps in absence of a toothbrush. She was pale in the mirror, drawn with the shadows of someone who could do with a few hours more rest - though she felt fine enough, considering. She ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair, pulled it into a knot at the back of her head, splashed cold water on her face. Refused to let her thoughts settle.
The Embassy was not quiet; she could hear evidence of movement beyond the closed door, if it had ever truly lulled even through the night, but for now she retreated to the seat behind the desk. She was loath to wake Ekene, and equally reluctant to leave him. With any luck he wouldn't remember his night-terror, but in any case she did not wish for him to wake alone, trapped in unfamiliar surroundings.
In the meantime she fiddled with booting up the computer, hoping its inevitable encryptions would not lock her out altogether, and looking for a port with which to sync her Wallet. Her concerns for Masiaka had subsided after the information she had gleaned yesterday, but she would feel better once she had spoken to Azubuike. Verify Ekene's familial situation. Begin to assemble the help the Red Cross could offer. First objective of the day.
Edited by Natalie Grey, Jun 23 2014, 04:43 PM.
In the bathroom she turned the faucet, braced herself against the sink for a moment as dizziness drifted in and out. There was not much she could do to salvage the shirt, which she draped over the toilet-seat, but the grey vest beneath was okay. Not that she had anything else to hand anyway. She cleaned as best she was able; arms, chest, face. The water swirled dark, fading to dirty pink, and in her mind all she could see was Kofi, the gleaming slash of his skull awash in all that red. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed such horrific violence, nor the first time she had tended someone she'd known had been going to die. Leaving him at the hospital had been a necessary choice; one she did not regret making. But between the fatigue and the silence fogging up her head, all she could think was that she'd left him to die alone.
She unravelled her braided hair, slipping the hair-tie over her wrist. Though she couldn't wash it properly in the sink, she could at least scrub out the blood and dust, which she did with a monotonous insistence until she felt at least somewhere appropriating human. The damp hair was cool against her skin as she returned to the office. Ekene was still out cold on the couch, so she curled into the leather chair by the desk. She didn’t think she'd sleep in bright afternoon daylight, but exhaustion claimed dominance over her desire to stay alert. Her dreams lapped a rhythmic harmony, but were punctuated by something absent; she bobbed close to lucidity, but in the end it was the wail of a disorientated cry that woke her fully.
It was complete dark by now, but she didn't bother to flip on the light. The curtains were still open, casting ghostly luminance on the edges of furniture, and she could just about make out the glow of Ekene's eyes as she knelt by the couch. He was tangled in the blanket like he had been dreaming bad, face slick with sweat and tears. His chest heaved ragged, the blurriness of sleep and pain-meds still glazing him over, pulling him back into terrifying dreams. "Hey, kid."
She pressed a hand over his brow, but he only sobbed. She wasn't even sure how lucid he even was as he began spluttering words.
It turned out they had dragged him from his bed in the middle of the night, drunk on the thrill of tomorrow's - now yesterday's - plans and thirsty for violence. Five young Temne men, among them Ekene's brother. Eager to christen another to the bloody cause, to make the first terrible cut into the disease of Mende culture, they had coerced him. Teasing at first, amused by the disorientated, groggy and frightened child in their midst, until alcohol had fuelled them darker.
The story eked out of him slowly, choked and disjointed. How they'd forced out his left hand, cajoling at first, then condemning of his friendship with Kofi. They'd bantered, nervous of their first taste of blood, but Ekene had trusted them. Trusted his brother. Until the hammer came down. His brother had placed the knife in his good hand after, Ekene's vision blurry with the flash of white pain and stars. Do it, or you're one of them. Do it, or we'll smash your other hand.
Natalie had assumed most of it already, her first inkling of something amiss back at the hospital, but the detail made her sick. "Budge up."
She shuffled him over gently, trying not to rouse him from his half-sleep. There was not enough room for her to lay, but she curled an arm about him protectively. He relaxed a fraction into her side. "No-one's coming for you tonight. Go back to sleep."
--
Natalie woke properly in grey dawn light, Ekene breathing steady and quiet, curled tight into her side. Her limbs ached, but her head felt clear - which in itself fostered enough relief to override the discomfort of an awkward night's sleep. She extricated herself carefully and left him under the fireblanket, swilling her mouth out with water from the taps in absence of a toothbrush. She was pale in the mirror, drawn with the shadows of someone who could do with a few hours more rest - though she felt fine enough, considering. She ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair, pulled it into a knot at the back of her head, splashed cold water on her face. Refused to let her thoughts settle.
The Embassy was not quiet; she could hear evidence of movement beyond the closed door, if it had ever truly lulled even through the night, but for now she retreated to the seat behind the desk. She was loath to wake Ekene, and equally reluctant to leave him. With any luck he wouldn't remember his night-terror, but in any case she did not wish for him to wake alone, trapped in unfamiliar surroundings.
In the meantime she fiddled with booting up the computer, hoping its inevitable encryptions would not lock her out altogether, and looking for a port with which to sync her Wallet. Her concerns for Masiaka had subsided after the information she had gleaned yesterday, but she would feel better once she had spoken to Azubuike. Verify Ekene's familial situation. Begin to assemble the help the Red Cross could offer. First objective of the day.
Edited by Natalie Grey, Jun 23 2014, 04:43 PM.