This… Was too much. I felt like he was asking way too much of me. I couldn't see… But I had to try. I wanted so badly to be stronger.

I took a few steps back. Then turned to head towards the kitchen. I knew it was adjacent to the lounge room. I just had to shuffle my way back to my chair. It faced the kitchen… Ok…

Breathe in …. Breathe out….

Tristain needs your help Aynur. You got this.

I felt like my movements were painstakingly slow. He needed me and I could barely navigate the small house. One foot moved in front of the other in slow, unsure footsteps as I made my way first to the chair then to the kitchen. My feet hit cool stone tiles and I knew I had made it to my destination. Tristain said they were in the kitchen...he normally left things on the counter for me so all I had to do was…

My fingers searched the surface of the counter. They landed on an empty knifeblock and I inwardly winced. Tristain made a habit to keep such things away from me, and who could blame him? They danced over a few plates, dirty… then...ah…

My eyes widened as my fingers met with what felt like a soft roll of coarse padding. This must be it. To confirm I touched my own bandages to see if the textures were the same. Tiny ridges and bumps. Yes… this was it.

I made my way back to the bedroom and toward the bed. I winced as my knees knocked against the hardwood frame. It hurt… but I was more worried about Tristain right now.

“Aynur.. You got it?” His breath was tight and strained

“Bandages...y-yeh…” Ah.. I really wanted to sound strong. Confident, instead my voice squeaked out in worried and stuttered mumbles. He sounded worse. I wasn’t sure if I had enough time to go to the bathroom to get a cloth to soak the water in so…

I shoved the bandages between my teeth so I could pull off my shirt. It’d only be for a little while and he was in no position to stress about the odd complexities of decency. I carefully felt around the bedside table till my fingertips pressed against the cool metal of the waterjug. I held it steady with one hand and used the other to submerge my shirt into the water.

“I have the cloth.” I mumbled as I turned back to the bed. I couldn’t see...all the world was to me were blurs of shapes and colours. I couldn’t even differentiate Tristain’s form from the bed. “I don’t...I…”

What was I supposed to do?

I could feel tears stinging my eyes as the feeling of helplessness began to encroach on me, drowning me. I was in over my head. I couldn’t do this...and because of my own ineptitude the one friend I had left was going to die.

“Aynur. Breathe.”

I gasped, gulping in a large breath of cool night air. I hadn’t realized it but I had been hyperventilating. My heart thudded loud against my ears. Right… right… I had to help him.

I carefully crawled onto the bed and straddled his hips. To me...this was incredibly embarrassing and awkward - but I didn’t know what else to do. This was the only way that I’d know where his body was. “T-Tristain? I’m not too heavy am I?”

“I.. No. The arrow… Is ahead of you but not far.”

I ran the cloth over his skin, slowly...carefully. I felt his body twitch at the touch...or maybe the water was too cold? Should I have warmed it up first? I didn’t know… Oh gods I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or how. I found the arrow…

There was a sharp hiss of indrawn breath, and beneath me his body tensed. I quickly drew away and covered my face. I couldn’t see but… but...oh I had hurt him. I made it worse. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to help him? I drew in deep shuddering breaths as I found the arrow again. One hand pressed the cloth tightly against his skin near his wound and the other grasped the...wooden part of the arrow - I wasn’t sure what it was called.

“W-what now?”

“Now. This will be… Painful. You have to.. Pull it out carefully. It is barbed. Try to..to find the angle where it…doesn’t tug the flesh..too much.” I could hear that he was clenching his teeth.

“I-I’m sorry…” I lowered my head and closed my eyes, they stung with tears. I shifted the arrow around, finding the angle that gave the least resistance. I froze when I heard him cry out.

“Just pull it!” He bit out.

I did as he asked, slowly. Carefully.. Oh gods I could feel blood dripping onto my hand and between my fingers… I’m sorry… He would hate me for this surely…

Slowly, and carefully I pulled the arrow out till it was free from his skin and I was holding it in mid-air. I dropped it and it clattered to the floor, bouncing on the wooden surface. My hands fell straight toward his back, fumbling to find his wound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please..I’m so sorry…” My words were spoken in quick succession between sobs. What did I do?

Why?

“Please don’t hate me Tristain.” The words left my lips in a feeble whisper, words I hadn’t realized I had spoken. So desperate… I was so desperate to help him and I still didn’t know how. Or if it was good enough. All I could do was carefully wipe away the wet sensation of blood.

I had even dropped the bandages. What possible use was a blind girl in a situation like this?