(short story) Unreal
I walked into the main room of the hospital, glancing around warily at the tacky paintings and doctor charts on the wall, the peeling paint, and the ugly moss green and white tiled floor. I tried not to breathe through my nose, for the distinct scent of sickness wafted through the place, out of every room. I couldn't help the grimace that formed on my face as I avoided the gazes of sickly patients and rushing doctors.
A nurse finally noticed me and my unease, and approached me slowly. "Hello...may I direct you somewhere?" Her voice was annoyingly sweet, and she smiled lightly.
"I...I'm looking for room 7A." I stuttered out.
She nodded, and pointed down the closest hallway. "Turn left when you reach the end, and it's the room right on the corner."
I nodded my thanks, and she walked away to attend to some other hopeless individual in here. I took in more air, and then started to walk down the hallway she pointed at. A nurse walked out of a room, carrying a vial of blood taken to be tested. I averted my eyes, trying to keep my breathing steady so I didn't end up being a patient here.
My first instinct was to find the nearest exit and get the hell out of here.
But of course, I continued walking, and then after what seemed like a lifetime, I ended up in front of room 7A. This hallway seemed to be mostly empty, and much quieter. The constant buzz of doctors and nurses, phones, pagers, and coughing had died down after entering this hallway.
I put my hand out to open the door, then suddenly stopped. I felt numb, almost like having an out-of-body experience. This was unreal, unbelievable. This isn't really happening...this is obviously a sick dream...Frozen there with my hand on the doorknob put everything into perspective. I was in a hospital, one of the places I hate the most. My friend was in this room, with...
I took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into the room and shutting the door.
There lie Sam, needles stuck in his pasty pale skin. He looked exhausted and his eyes were dull, raccoon rings etched in under them. He looked up at the sound of the door shutting, and when he saw me, a smile crossed his face, and I saw a tiny glow in his eyes. "Claire, you're here."
I couldn't help giving him a tiny smile. "Yes, I said I would. I didn't lie to you."
But looking at him, seeing him weaker than his usual strong self was heartbreaking. I was still in complete disbelief that this had happened. Just two days ago, we were flirting back and forth over text, and talking about hanging out soon. And now he's lying in a hospital, sick.
A nurse finally noticed me and my unease, and approached me slowly. "Hello...may I direct you somewhere?" Her voice was annoyingly sweet, and she smiled lightly.
"I...I'm looking for room 7A." I stuttered out.
She nodded, and pointed down the closest hallway. "Turn left when you reach the end, and it's the room right on the corner."
I nodded my thanks, and she walked away to attend to some other hopeless individual in here. I took in more air, and then started to walk down the hallway she pointed at. A nurse walked out of a room, carrying a vial of blood taken to be tested. I averted my eyes, trying to keep my breathing steady so I didn't end up being a patient here.
My first instinct was to find the nearest exit and get the hell out of here.
But of course, I continued walking, and then after what seemed like a lifetime, I ended up in front of room 7A. This hallway seemed to be mostly empty, and much quieter. The constant buzz of doctors and nurses, phones, pagers, and coughing had died down after entering this hallway.
I put my hand out to open the door, then suddenly stopped. I felt numb, almost like having an out-of-body experience. This was unreal, unbelievable. This isn't really happening...this is obviously a sick dream...Frozen there with my hand on the doorknob put everything into perspective. I was in a hospital, one of the places I hate the most. My friend was in this room, with...
I took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into the room and shutting the door.
There lie Sam, needles stuck in his pasty pale skin. He looked exhausted and his eyes were dull, raccoon rings etched in under them. He looked up at the sound of the door shutting, and when he saw me, a smile crossed his face, and I saw a tiny glow in his eyes. "Claire, you're here."
I couldn't help giving him a tiny smile. "Yes, I said I would. I didn't lie to you."
But looking at him, seeing him weaker than his usual strong self was heartbreaking. I was still in complete disbelief that this had happened. Just two days ago, we were flirting back and forth over text, and talking about hanging out soon. And now he's lying in a hospital, sick.
I don't know what I believe in, but I'll pray to whatever is around that he'll return to upping his gauge size and dying his healthy hair red or blue again.
"Well, you hate hospitals. I didn't force you to come." He said. But I could see his appreciation written all over his face. I waved him off. "As long as I'm not the one in the hospital, I'm okay..." I trailed off, searching for a way to tell him that everything will be okay, that this hell would pass soon.
" I start chemo soon." He said, so nonchalantly that all I could do was stare.
"I...yeah..." I felt so awkward. Why couldn't I think of something to say?
"You can come closer you know. I don't bite...much." He winked at me, and I giggled a bit, walking and sitting at the side of his bed. His gaze softened when he glanced at me. He reached up and brushed his hand under my eye. I felt a wetness, and licked my lips and tasted salt. I hadn't even realized I was crying. Way to maintain your composure, ass.
"Claire...it's going to be okay. They said it's curable."
"Cancer is cancer." I said pointedly, sighing. I saw him hesitate, and then take my hand. I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach. At that moment, I couldn't help but notice that he was still attractive, even when he looked sick. He then looked me in the eyes, and spoke.
"Claire...it wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to ask you to be my girlfriend while we were hanging out together having a good time. And when I asked you for a kiss over text and you thought I was joking, that wasn't a joke. And I'm sorry that this is happening here...but Claire, I really like you. I do. And if you would, I'd enjoy having that kiss right now."
I sat gaping at him, more tears falling freely from my eyes now. He glanced down, smiling a little. He looked up after glancing at my face again, and said "Nevermind, I know. I don't think I wou---" I gently placed my lips on his, kissing him softly, surprised that I was the one that even initiated this. He put his hands on the side of my neck, tangling them in my hair, kissing me back with the sweetest kiss I've ever received.
I leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes."
"Yes, what?" He asked, confusion filling his adorable face.
"I'm your girlfriend." I said, winking at him in his own Sam style.
He looked up at me in awe, and then looked a minute away from tearing up himself.
"Sam, the boy who didn't cry when he got tatted and got his lip pierced is about to cry?" I teased lightly. He glared at me, his purple-tinted hair shiny from the angle I was sitting, his brown eyes glowing with amusement. "Claire?"
"Well, you hate hospitals. I didn't force you to come." He said. But I could see his appreciation written all over his face. I waved him off. "As long as I'm not the one in the hospital, I'm okay..." I trailed off, searching for a way to tell him that everything will be okay, that this hell would pass soon.
" I start chemo soon." He said, so nonchalantly that all I could do was stare.
"I...yeah..." I felt so awkward. Why couldn't I think of something to say?
"You can come closer you know. I don't bite...much." He winked at me, and I giggled a bit, walking and sitting at the side of his bed. His gaze softened when he glanced at me. He reached up and brushed his hand under my eye. I felt a wetness, and licked my lips and tasted salt. I hadn't even realized I was crying. Way to maintain your composure, ass.
"Claire...it's going to be okay. They said it's curable."
"Cancer is cancer." I said pointedly, sighing. I saw him hesitate, and then take my hand. I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach. At that moment, I couldn't help but notice that he was still attractive, even when he looked sick. He then looked me in the eyes, and spoke.
"Claire...it wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to ask you to be my girlfriend while we were hanging out together having a good time. And when I asked you for a kiss over text and you thought I was joking, that wasn't a joke. And I'm sorry that this is happening here...but Claire, I really like you. I do. And if you would, I'd enjoy having that kiss right now."
I sat gaping at him, more tears falling freely from my eyes now. He glanced down, smiling a little. He looked up after glancing at my face again, and said "Nevermind, I know. I don't think I wou---" I gently placed my lips on his, kissing him softly, surprised that I was the one that even initiated this. He put his hands on the side of my neck, tangling them in my hair, kissing me back with the sweetest kiss I've ever received.
I leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes."
"Yes, what?" He asked, confusion filling his adorable face.
"I'm your girlfriend." I said, winking at him in his own Sam style.
He looked up at me in awe, and then looked a minute away from tearing up himself.
"Sam, the boy who didn't cry when he got tatted and got his lip pierced is about to cry?" I teased lightly. He glared at me, his purple-tinted hair shiny from the angle I was sitting, his brown eyes glowing with amusement. "Claire?"
"What?" I asked, not being able to erase the stupid smile I know is on my face.
"Shut up."
"Gladly." And I kissed him again.
"Gladly." And I kissed him again.
*2012- Bailey C. Writing
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