Oh no.
Itâs fatal. Iâm going to die.
Although, if Iâm going to die, shouldnât my life be flashing before my eyes? Doesnât that happen every time in books where someone thinks theyâre about to die and they suddenly recollect everything that ever happened no matter the level of importan- ugh, Basil, stop it; youâre supposed to be overreacting right now.
While that slight introspection had helped to very minimally bring the level of absolute panic down a touch, it was not destined to last. Was there a doctor in the room, one who might be able to stop the horrible grievous fatal and incurable would surely spawned by some dark and nefarious force seeking to eliminate him from existence by making him trip over the lightbulb fragments scattered across the floor which he had broken in his endeavor to escape certain trauma.
Oh, thatâs right, this was all his fault he had almost forgotten about the guilt trip he was on
Basilâs head snapped to face her, his hands still bunching the blanket up around his mouth, his eyes almost glowing from the dark undiscernable hollow his face hid within. They shined with the anticipation of even more unfortunate circumstances.
The would itself was significantly messy, as the kid seemed to bleed extremely easily, but otherwise it appeared rather simple. The glass was from the fragmented lightbulb and due to its relatively weak strength could not have had the force necessary to do anything more than make it to the bone, at most.
It was a sharp, vertical cut, which drew from closer to the knee down around three inches, deepening quickly as the glass found its resting place. It was impossible to tell whether or not it had actually reached the bone while the glass was still in place, and probably further difficult as the would would likely fill with blood once the glass was removed.
Something else both Miles and Alexis may have taken into account that, much like his strangely clawed foot, his calf was rather defined for a kid of his size who, as evidenced by his sad limp up the stairs, clearly did not partake in notable physical endeavors.
One thing was certain, however: there were no extra splinters of glass. Basilâs dashing tumble directly through a massive pile of glass splinters had ended remarkably in his favor, although there was still the issue of getting this piece out. And hopefully before Basil remembered how painful walking up the stairs had been and did some simple math.