Beg's POV (point of view)
Once I had gotten over the excruciating pain of getting up, I stared into the screen of my Galaxy 3x cell phone. Rubbing my fogged eyes, the text message read: I am coming over soon, and I am bringing medicine
." AHHHH! Medicine? Better not be that stupid alcohol stuff." I yelled to myself. As I heard a tedious knock, I crept quietly to the door. I opened the door as slow as molasses. It was Shy."Your doctor called me and I kinda need to put this on your stitches. It will help them close up". I sighed and sat down on my mothers ancient plastic covered love seat, knowing torture was coming. As she un-capped the bottle and poured the clear liquid onto my scorched wounds I felt like I was dying. A horrifying stinging sensation ran through my nervous system, causing the pain to multiply and it didn't help that the touch of the alcohol was recreating the severe agony I felt when I was on fire. I wanted to cry till I puked my guts out, and have an ear-piercing scream be ripped out from my throat. I would have done either of those things if it didn't for the fact I could barely move, much less yell. So I sat there quietly trying to calm myself down so that I wouldn't start trying to choke. When she was finally done I tried to get up and move to my bedroom, trying to ignore that fact that she had another
bottle of medicine. It wasn't liquid though, it looked like a orange container of of horse pills."Are those
supposed to go down my throat? The food that I chew can barely go down mine NOW!" I said exhausted."Shut-up and sit down" Shy said. I turned around when she made circular gestures. All I heard next was a enormous thump.