[i]‘Rotting.’[/i] Digging in her fingers into the cut on her right palm, she walked to the front of their group and began to lead the way to the infirmary. “It’s this way.” Kathy told them, her voice flat and lifeless. [i]‘My hand feels like it’s rotting. I’m the one that hit him, but it feels like it’s rotting.’[/i] Stopping every so often to make sure they were all following, her eyes flickered back and forth between Crash, Zivon, and the white-haired girl. Guilt was gnawing away at her. She was exhausted too, but everyone else seemed to be struggling with something worse.

She kept glancing over her shoulder at Crash in particular, although she was too scared to actually meet his eyes. Apparently, he also had no intentions of meeting her gaze. [i]‘... Good. I didn’t think I could handle his look anyway.’[/i] She thought, clearly lying to herself. Every time she saw his bloody lip and still-red cheek, her nails dug deeper into her gash, scratching and opening up the skin.

Down the stairs and out the front entrance, they slowly made their way to the main building. She noticed that they weren’t the only ones. Something told her that the infirmary beds would probably be filled up tonight.

Reaching the infirmary, she didn’t bother knocking and proceeded to open the door. Holding it wide open for everyone, she gestured for everyone to come in. Once they were all inside, Kathy reached out to Zivon’s free arm to help ease him into one of the beds. “Don’t worry Zivon, the doctor will look at you soon.” Having had to use both hands to help Zivon into the bed, she noticed she had left a bloody stain on his clothes. [i]‘I’ll help wash that out later. At some point. Or just pay to replace the entire top.’[/i] Turning around she looked at the white-haired girl and Crash, or rather their feet. Unable to lift her head she mumbled, “I’ll… Stay here with him. You two should go and see the doctor first.”