Writing Injuries Novels & Stories

Afraid she wouldn't be able to stop herself from crying, she couldn't bring herself to speak to him first. He glanced at her teary eyes and asked softly, "Why are you crying?" She shook her head. Her heart was in pain over the sight of the bloody knife wounds all over his body. The doctor bandaged his wounds and turned to Suzanne. He then advised while cleaning up, "Mrs. Morrison, Mr. Morrison's injuries might not be life-threatening, but they're still quite serious. I've given him stitches and bandaged all his wounds. "They'll require redressing every day and shouldn't come in contact with water. He should refrain from strenuous activities and get ample rest. I've prescribed some anti-infl

I wonder if that sort of thing shows up on a brain scan. I’m treated for a concussion and a sprained wrist. I want to scream at the doctors that my wrist wasn’t from the car accident, but I know better. I bite my tongue. Emmett is treated for whiplash which brings me a sick joy. It’s about time he got hurt for once. Once we’re all bandaged up and our hands are stuffed full of printed papers for aftercare instructions, we’re left alone while the doctor draws up our discharge papers. “You fucking bitch,” he grumbles the first chance he gets, with no one around to hear.

“No broken facial bones but you have a lot of bruising. Are you able to tell me what happened? I understand that you are in a lot of pain right now so just give me a few key words and I will fill in the blanks.” “Engage, off. Hit, no wash up.” “Your now ex fiance hit you because you didn't wash up?” I nodded and looked to the floor. “Is there more? Would you prefer to write it down?” I nodded to both questions. “Maddie, can you grab a notepad and a pen from the desk in the hallway please,” doc instructed. She was back within seconds and handed me the book and pen before going to stand back in the corner until she was needed again. I started to write somethings on the book before handing it t

Every muscle in my body screamed in agony as I crawled toward a nearby tree and leaned onto its base for support. My entire body felt numb like I had fallen off a cliff and landed on a concrete floor. A crescent-shaped wound with spots of blood marred the inside of my elbow where that man had bitten me. My head throbbed with a painful ache that made my vision difficult, blurring momentarily like a light switch as blood from the side of my head trickled down my cheeks. I knew how bad head injuries can be. I prayed I hadn’t sustained a severe one that would lead to any future complications.

he said quietly. Scarlet’s breath hitched as she stared at him. Up close, the injuries were still there. Bruises marred his skin. Knife wounds were ugly and deep, some still bleeding faintly. Her fingers hovered, then gently pressed against one of the gashes. “You’re hurt,” she whispered. He snorted. “Yeah. That part’s real.” Her head snapped up. “Real?” “I injured myself,” he said casually, like he was talking about a paper cut. “Didn’t heal them. Left them ugly and believable.”

“You were severely injured when you arrived here two days ago, you had multiple scrapes and bruises as well as a fair number of broken bones. Two ribs on your left side were cracked, luckily, they should heal quickly. Your left wrist was fractured and will be in a cast for the next six to eight weeks.” “You have several bumps and gashes on your head, our main concern is the particularly big one sitting at the back of your cranium, but that should be nothing to worry about if your brain decides to play nice and not bleed.” If her brain decides to play nice? Where had this guy gone to medical school?

"Training accidents, ordinary injuries, misfortune—" "Not in these patterns," Elena interrupted firmly. "I've treated abuse victims for twenty years across multiple packs. I know what it looks like. The specific injury patterns, the defensive fractures, the psychological markers—these don't come from accidents. They come from systematic abuse from someone the victim couldn't escape."

I reply with a shrug. I wait for her to reply to me, but there is total muteness for a long time. I grind my teeth and wince. I inhale and exhale deliberately as I retrace my steps back in the track of testing my healing abilities. I place the blade on my wrist but I am feeling a little reluctant about it. Anyways, let me just do it. Now the valse is firmly placed ln my wrist, I yank it slowly and blood begins to pour. I frown my face and press my teeth together as I inflict injury and pain to myself, by myself.

“No, but the light touch doesn’t feel right. Some of the nerves never connected back together, and it makes it feel like you’re rubbing sandpaper against my skin.” “I’m sorry.” “There is nothing to be sorry about. You can touch me anywhere, just when you touch me there, be a little more aggressive.” “Like this?” I asked as I put some pressure into my hand, running it along the scar. He didn’t shy away or flinch. “Just like that.” “Weird. So, just light touches?” He nodded. “Something about it just causes an irritation.” In all my life I’d never broken a bone, which really was surprising with Carson and Wyatt. The worst injury I could remember was hitting some loose sandy gravel on the edge o

I had hidden under the couch. As the brother and sister duel ran into the living room to see what the noise was, I shot them both in the ankle. Instantly, they dropped to their knees screaming in pain, as Mr. Slater rushed in. He helped me get free from the remaining restraints. He secured the crime scene till the police and the emergency medical team arrived. The medical team treated everyone before transporting us to the hospital. My soon- to- be father-in-law arrived as I was being put in the ambulance, and he rode with me to the hospital holding my hand. The entire time, he reassured me that everything would be okay.