Melissa glared at him and held up a finger of the blood. “It tastes a lot more coppery than ketchup.” she spat at him before turning back to the phone. “Yes, my name is Melissa Phillips, I work for Byron Forbes at 223…” she turned her head and continued the conversation so no more of Byron’s disbelief wouldn’t be heard by the dispatcher.
“Please, just hurry, she’s got blood from the back of her head. No signs of shock yet, but it could start soon, we’re outside in the snow.” she explained as she looked back to Byron.
She sighed. “No… no you can’t tell me that.” she told them. “Okay, I know a little but she’s… no, she’s unconscious.” she said as her hands started trembling a little. “I… I’m not… I-I can’t do this on my own.” she said nervously into the phone. “Okay… okay… I can try.” she looked up to Byron.
“I really don’t care if you believe me or not.” she whispered. “Just please… trust me? Go get the first aid kit from by the stove please?” she said as she wiped the tear from her cheek quickly.