Plans // Open~
"And you can’t stop?" Chase asked, his eyes glued to what he was attending to. He was washing out a wound, several actually, lined across an expanse of pale, white skin before him. He watched as the person seemed to shy away from his touch at first, but his eyes flickered up to meet the others, and soon enough, he was allowed to touch the wounds with gloved hands.
"I’ve tried. I can’t." Replied a raspy, quiet voice. Female, shaken, broken, hardly anything at all. Chase frowned at the words as he lifted a small piece of gauze to the open wounds, not pulling back once he heard the girl hiss in pain and attempt to recoil. "Stupid, isn’t it," She asked the doctor, her dull green eyes were searching for his, but found nothing, and so she turned to look the other way.
Chase leaned away from the girl’s exposed skin on her sides and hip, where she’d purposely been cutting herself over and over, carving words such as ‘fat’, ‘worthless’, and ‘pathetic’, all with such precision and a kind of morbid beauty that Chase had to admire. He wondered how someone could stay still and do such things to their-selves; to take a fine blade to their skin because they simply felt no other option or relief. He placed the bloodied gauze in a metal pan beside him and blinked back over to the girl, who was laying down on the bed in the examination room.
"Nearly done," Chase said in a calm voice, offering her a small, comforting smile. She seemed to smile back, although he couldn’t tell fully from her laying-down position. The girl had short, choppy brown hair and extremely pale skin. She was skinny beyond recognition, and there were little dark purple scars riddling her skin from the beginning of her palms, to her shoulders, her thighs and her stomach. Chase had to deal with the girl often because she always managed to re-open the scars and cause them to bleed profusely. He was on a semi-friend basis with her. Although they both knew the boundaries, they wouldn’t dare ask each other anything inappropriate or perhaps privately contradicting. It was a harsh reality, but she felt like she couldn’t talk to him, so she never did. And Chase didn’t want to push her. He simply cleaned out her wounds and sewed back together the worst of the worst. She knew the drill, and so did he.
Luckily for him though, the nurses got to the nameless girl before she did any bad damage to herself. She had opened half of an indistinguishable word that passed from her prominent hip-bone and up towards her belly button. She had to lay down with her shirt pulled-up so that Chase could get to it, and clean the thing. His eyes crossed over the wound yet again and he sighed inwardly. He thought he’d be fed up with this, and with anyone else, he would have been. But this shut-off girl seemed to always ask for his assistance when she opened up her scars. It was a little uncanny to him, but he never questioned it.
After he had spent a little more time cleaning the wound and applying some slightly-stinging antiseptic cream, he placed little butterfly stitches over the wound. It didn’t take much time at all for them to adhere to her pale skin and hold the cuts closed; so Chase pulled the stool away and nodded at her. “All done,” he mused, pulling off the gloves with a faint snap-snap sound. He dumped the used gloves in the pan along with the bloodied bandages and other various instruments which only the doctors understood how to use, and then turned back to the girl.
"It’s probably useless to tell you to stop,” he said, looking down as she sat up to pull her shirt down over her flat stomach. She paid attention to him, but she was also looking down at the ground, a look of shame over her face. “But if I ask you to, would you try?”
"What?" She questioned quickly, looking him straight in the eyes at his question.
"If I asked you to stop. Would you try to?"
"…I guess so,"
"Good. Can you try for me?" He asked, lifting his eyebrows at her.
This time there was no verbal response, just a meager nod and a tiny returning smirk. It wasn’t a lot, but it was a start.
The Aussie stood up and nodded at her again, gesturing towards the closed door. “I’ll see you around then.” He said, one hand on his hip as she jumped down from the table. She looked up at him as if for one last word of wisdom, but he said nothing. Just smiling. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a wholesome, content smile. For some reason Chase had faith in the name-less girl. He saw it in her eyes: she had gone from the dismal, dull, almost soulless green to a semi-vibrant, hopeful glint.
"And thanks," He said as she opened the door to leave. "For trying."
"Yeah.. thanks, doc," She said, waved to him, and then exited the room.
Chase breathed a sigh of contentment as he busied himself by cleaning up the used supplies. After a while of cleaning, he finished writing up the form and filed it, before he exited the room. Chase wasn’t paying much attention, he just locked the room with the small golden key and slipped it into his pocket, before his eyes turned towards the black watch he was wearing. “Crap,” he mumbled to himself. I’m gonna be late now, he thought, turning on his heel to go back to the main complex. He was looking forward to leaving early today. He had plans for the afternoon, so he was quick to move. However, seeing someone at the end of the hall out of the corner of his eye caused him to stop, frown in mild confusion, and look properly. Something had caught his eye.