He closes his eyes for a minute. He rubs them with both hands, mindlessly smears them with his blood. It drips to his mouth.
He tastes the blood and spits it out, rubs his arm over his mouth to clean it, only smears more blood over it. Crying, he looks around the room for something to clean his mouth with.
He tugs at the bed sheet and looks for a clean spot. He looks around the room and sees the bedside table, one drawer half open, on top a flickering lamp and behind it a mirror set on the wall. He crawls towards it.
