Keriga winced in pain when the needle he was using accidentally stabbed into the tip of his finger. He felt tears well up in his eyes as he pulled the needle back and watched some blood well up on his finger. His first instinct was to run to his mother and cry about what had happened, but he was getting older now, he couldn't always run to her whenever things went wrong, could he? He grimaced, feeling even more panicky the more he saw the blood rising. He shifted from his seat and ran to the bathroom, stuffing toilet paper on the wound.
He sighed at himself, he was so pathetic, how was he ever going to be able to do things on his own if he was so scared of just a little blood. He couldn't even look at it without feeling slightly queasy. He scoured through the medicine box before locating some peroxide and bandaids. He drew in a ragged breath, trying to ready himself for when he pulled off the gauze. He tried to calm his nerves and yanked it off, quickly pouring the peroxide on his finger and then dabbed it dry and slapped the band aid on as quickly as he could. He let out a sigh when it was finally finished, thankful he hadn't seen more blood.
He put his back to the wall, contemplating what had just happened. Had he actually handled the situation himself? Looking around at the mess he left in the bathroom, he definitely could have done so a little more tactically, but he had done it! This actually left a sense of pride in himself, even if he had no desire to do it again. Would his mother be happy of him actually accomplishing bandaging himself? He knew other children did so all the time on their own, but this was a huge deal to him. He hardly ever did anything on his own, he had always clung to the coattails of his mothers and brothers, and was somehow left in the dust when it came to individualism, but maybe that was slowly starting to change? I mean, if he could handle bandaging his wound by himself, what else could he handle?
He nibbled his lip, thinking about all the possibilities when he finally realized that all those thoughts made him feel uncomfortable, perhaps even frightened. So maybe he was growing, but he wasn't sure he'd ever be as brave as Alex. He'd always be more of a Momma's boy, and want to stay close to his family. However, maybe it wasn't too far for him to be able to grow up and become good at fashion like he had always dreamed. Maybe he wouldn't cry so much being so far from home. Maybe he'd actually be willing to go out and make something of himself. Those were dreams for another time, though, first he desperately needed to clean the mess he left in the bathroom. On his own, mind you!
