A broken-hearted child who was severely scolded and reprimanded all because they were trying to be kind, now hesitates to help even when asked. Constantly terrified they are going to be shouted at for doing even the smallest thing for anyone. They've taken to isolating themselves, afraid of being around others, and in need of a lot of therapy.
@internutter/challenge-03334-i046-satans-cobblestone -- Anon Guest
[AN: If you actually read that story, there's not a lot of yelling. Frustration on the side of the Security people, but not a lot of actual yelling. The kid in question was willfully ignorant and thought they could get away with doing illegal things]
Old enough to know better. It was true. Wyn Techie had been educated in Havenworlder Safety Steps since ze was old enough to understand them. Yet ze had thought that ze was doing something kind.
It was the opposite of kind.
Da had said ze was smart enough to find trouble and silly enough to get into it and honestly? That was accurate. So now ze was in Early Medik Training, learning how to do everything properly. Including how to don and fit a Medik's livesuit, and then undergo the thorough cleaning process to get all of hir Deathworlder germs off it.
Wyn would forever refer to it as Wash Cycle, Dry Cycle, Fire Cycle, even though the 'fire' was an electromagnetic plasma that flickered briefly over the surface of the suit. The entire process took twenty minutes and had to be started over if Wyn touched anything without clearance.
Hir work was fetching, carrying, and learning. Taking down readings and comparing them to what was good and what was bad.
Seven of the ICU drawers were filled with hir former victims. Some were kept sedated for their health. Some were making trembling, unsteady steps towards recovery. The rest were merely stable.
These were hir patients. These were hir victims. This was the direct result of thinking that ze was too special to follow the rules. Medical intervention would see to it that Wyn would not accidentally kill any of them. It was Hours upon Hours of work, building up to Days.
Hir work alongside the real Mediks would only pay off some of it. The debt would not be punative, all the same. It was, in its way, the result of a child's mistake. Wyn would not be making such a mistake again.
It was a public transit, and the little bird was having a difficulty. Wyn checked hir datareader to be certain of the species and put on hir Light Touch gloves and dialled up the reference material on how to help in emergencies.
Ze had been working on this for years. Learning about how to truly help, rather than thinking ze was helping. "Give them some air. Make a hole." A scanner revealed a small blockage in their windpipe. Smacking their shoulder-blades would break their back.
Wyn knew what to do.
Ze grasped the Havenworlder firmly and gently by their body, and flipped them upside down. "Cough!"
A whole, unpopped popcorn kernel dropped out of them and skittered across the floor of the mass transit vehicle. Someone at the food stalls would be upbraided for letting that pass out to a customer.
Wyn righted the Havenworlder onto a seat. "Long, deep breaths. Focus on whatever helps you be calm." Ze had a mask between hirself and the Havenworlder. Simple manners to keep hir germs under control. "Breathe with me." Wyn paced hir own breaths to match the Havenworlder and gradually slowed them down.
By the time they reached the station, the Havenworlder would only need a minor check-up. Ze was not yet fourteen. Too young, according to many, to know anything about medical intervention.
"You're still in school," said a bystander. "How did you know how to help?"
Wyn said what had been said too many times after the Incident. "I'm old enough to know better."
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / nbvf]
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