What To Do If You Get Bleach In Your Eye Novels & Stories

Everybody has gone, even the rest of the guards. A car horn startles me and I quicken my attempts at searching for where the bleach is kept. I walk into the kitchen and I look around frantically. I see a small door and I jog towards it and open it. Bingo! There are shelves of soap, disinfectants, other products, but most importantly, bleach! I grab the small gallon of bleach and I jog back out of the kitchen quickly. As I walk through the living room so I can go upstairs and prepare the syringe, I spot Robert talking to someone at the entrance of the house.

Penny immediately put down her spatula and grabbed Caleb's hand. She took away the kitchen knife and placed it aside. "Go to the bathroom." Caleb, who was squinting his eyes, was pushed toward the first-floor bathroom. Penny scooped up some clean water with both hands and splashed it over his eyes. "Bend over, or your clothes will get wet." He quickly bent over, his eyes still burning painfully. Penny repeatedly rinsed his eyes many times. Finally, she grabbed his hands, squeezed some hand soap into her palm, and meticulously massaged each of his fingers.

"Go back to the archives and fix your neck because the smell of those chemicals is giving me a headache." I didn't wait for a second invitation. I scrambled for the door, unlocked it with shaking hands, and practically fell into the hallway. I didn't stop running until I reached the basement bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face, looking at my reflection. The ‘rash’ was itchy and burning, but it had saved me. But as I looked at the red mess, a wave of sadness hit me. Damon had looked so hopeful for a split second—so desperate to find a connection and I had given him a face full of bleach-smelling hives.

“ Get a skin antiseptic, chlorhexidine to be precise, and get to work.” Her jaw twitched, but she returned a moment later with the bottle of antiseptic. I watched as she struggled to open it. She was actually doing it wrongly. “ Stop pressing the bottle. It's dangerous, it could burst,” I stated. “ I know.” She hissed but didn't stop pressing it. She pulled the cover forcefully, and it burst open, the fluid spilling out like a fountain and splattering on her face. Fuck, she wasn't wearing goggles.

"Or I'll come back over there. And you won't like what happens then." The threat was crystal clear in his eyes. I grabbed the brush with shaking hands, nearly dropped it because my fingers wouldn't work properly. I poured bleach directly onto the stone where the dark stain spread. The fumes hit immediately, sharp and chemical and burning. They seared my eyes, my nose, my already raw throat. Made my lungs seize up until I couldn't breathe at all. I started scrubbing anyway because I had no choice. "Harder," Carmina snapped, her voice sharp as a whip.

I ramble on as I head into the bathroom. I grab some eyedrops and the spare colored contacts I keep hidden. I grab one out and let it soak in the solution from the eye drops in the contacts container. Taking a deep breath, I peeled the bandages from my eye. This was going to hurt a lot. I put some eye drops in my eye. It burned so badly. I let out a hiss of pain. Fuck, that sucked.

My eyes widened as I saw Achilles, lying on the floor looking in extreme pain, his hand on his chest and coughing aggressively. I ran over to him immediately. My breath quickened. “God–Achilles, what—what…” I looked at a bottle of bleach kept beside him. Gasping, I stood up and ran around to find water. Picking up a one-litre bottle, I rushed back and forcefully put the bottle in his mouth. He opened his mouth and started drinking it. “Oh god, Y-You’re gonna be fine,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say before getting up and calling 911 immediately.

Between coughs, he gasped out the words, "Come have a look at my eyes! I can't see!" Zara paused, then approached him with uncertainty. Yosef had tried to wash out his eyes with bottled water, and his shirt collar was damp. Yet, the whites of his eyes were still a scary shade of red. Zara did not feel guilty, though. The self-defense spray she used was not toxic. Usually, a good rinse and a half-hour wait would do the trick. "Try washing out your eyes again with this," Zara suggested, offering him a water bottle.

He opened them slowly, and his expression twisted. “Wait, what happened to her eyes?” he asked. I moved closer to him. “What do you mean?” “It’s swollen and burned. Was she pepper-sprayed? What the hell even happened to this woman?” he asked. Shit. Vera. “I don’t know,” I replied, already exhausted. He dug into his bag and pulled out a bottle of saline and gauze. He tilted her head and started flushing her eyes. “We need to do this for at least fifteen minutes, or she risks permanent damage,” he said.

he screamed, stepping back. I grabbed the bleach bottle and hit him on the side his head as hard as I could, causing him to step backward. I took advantage of his momentary unbalance as he rubbed his eyes, knowing that I only had a second. I unscrewed the cap from the bleach bottle and threw the contents at him, causing him to scream out in pain as bleach covered his face and hair. I grabbed the broom and, finding sudden strength, rammed my foot into the wooden handle, breaking it in half.