The Girl In Room 417

Untitled Part 1

Walking through the unusually bright corridor, I wrinkle my nose at the overwhelming scent of bleach. Ever since I was a kid I have hated the smell and these walls are covered in it. This hospital in particular is in dire need of a re-vamp. The wallpaper is peeling in places, paint chipped and ominous stains linger on a floor which tells far too many graphic tales.

I shiver at the thought of what the brown patch beneath my right foot is.

The flowers in my hand are nice. I don't know what kind they are, but they're a scary shade of yellow and smell like spring, kind of. It's hard to smell anything other than cleaning products in this place. The wrapper crinkles in my palm and is a small indicator that I might be holding them too hard.

I loosen my grip, changing them to my other hand so I can rub my sweaty palm on my jeans. I linger outside room 406. It's nothing new. Just go inside.

I stay outside.

Taking a deep breath, I clench my fist and exhale harshly. I need a cigarette. After another moment standing behind a door, I grow some balls and push it open.

My little sister is propped up in bed, a sack of clear liquid by her side and a beaming smile on her face. Her eyes are sparkling, even though her arms are bruised and she looks thinner than when I saw her last.

"Ben! You came, are these for me?" She asks, pointing at the flowers and I thrust them forwards, nodding.

"Course I came, I wouldn't take time out of my day to bug just anyone." I say, prodding her lightly and she laughs.

"I'm glad, I pity the people who you are yet to irritate." She says, sighing dramatically and I laugh. I look back up and frown.

"Emily, you're bleeding again." I say. My voice is panicky but I reach for a tissue mechanically, pressing it lightly to her nose as she groans. I push the call button for a doctor. It's like the actions are ingrained in me.

"I thought you said this wasn't happening anymore." I try and say lightly.

"You jinxed it." She says, her voice is nasal and high pitched now. She tilts her head back slightly as a nurse breezes in and fiddles with things. She adjusts the clear liquid sack and sends me a plain, 'get out of here' look.

"I can tell when I'm not wanted." I murmur. Emily laughs half-heartedly.

I push myself off the rickety blue plastic chair and step outside. There's not a lot to do here, but I don't want to leave my sister just yet. This is a new hospital, which means exploration is a must.

-

In 45 minutes, I have found the cafeteria, a break room, a passed-out nurse sleeping in a cupboard and four pennies. Make that five pennies.

The change jingles in my pocket as I round a corner and make my way back into the paediatrics ward. It's slightly more colourful here, an attempt to make this dismal place a little less frightening. It doesn't work, but points for trying.

I pass a large room and glance into the window in passing, as I have been doing for the past 46 minutes and 37 seconds. This room catches my eye. It's more colourful than any of the other rooms. Almost everything in the room is blue, with the exception of white walls.

A girl who appears to be at the limit of the paediatric spectrum (which I assume is 18) is flicking through a book and is wrapped in several blankets. I think back to Emily's room and compare it to this one.

I shake my head. I hate rich kids. She doesn't even look sick, her hair is shiny and long, her face is a little gaunt but her skin is creamy and flawless. She has all of her limbs and has full function of them too.

I watch her toes wiggle for a moment longer.

Sighing, I roll my eyes and turn back in the direction of my sister. Maybe I would ask about the privileged girl in room 417.