Coloring Outside the Lines

Chapter Thirty

Before I even come to my senses, I'm out the door and sprinting down the street. My mind goes into overdrive and I'm just running and running and running.

My thoughts can't even process straight and I can't comprehend where I'm heading. The cold air is numbing my face, and oh look at that I forgot to wear shoes. By default, my feet are freezing too. I'll be lucky if by the time I get to the hospital, I don't have frost bite.

The walking sign is off, but I can't stop here. I sprint across the street, while several cars are honking at me. But I make it across in one piece. I probably look like some psychotic homeless chick right now.

The sidewalk is surprisingly crowded, so I have to shove past people to get through. Please people, move out of the way. That will just make it more simple for the both of us.

I can see the hospital only a block away and I know Lizzie's in there. She's in there, because of something, and I need to be there. I push myself forward and faster, feeling tears prickling at my eyes. She's in there. And I can't move fast enough.

I burst through the doors, hurrying to the front desk of the hospital. The woman looks up when she notices me and her eyes widen at the sight of me. I really probably do look like some psycho right now.

"Hello, how may I be of a-"

"Lizzie Fields, where is she?" I ask, leaning against the desk to catch my breath.

She woman types incredibly slowly and I'm dying here in anticipation. Could this lady go any slower if she tried?

"She's in room 239," the woman tells me.

I hurry through the hallway and hurry up the first flight of stairs that I can find. The hallway has nurses and patients and wheelchairs and so many people. A ways down the hallway, I spot Sheryl sitting in a chair by the door marked 239.

I sit next to her and let out a long breath that I've been holding. "What happened?"

Sheryl turns and notices me. She looks like she just got out of a trance. "She was in a car crash. The roads were too slippery. Her grandma ended up sliding into the opposite lane. Lizzie's side got crashes into head on."

I gasp. And can't breath. My head feels nauseous. Time seems to slow to a stop and all I can do is stare at that closed door. Silent tears fall down my face and I'm way past caring about it.

"How did you know?" I whisper.

"I was here. For my mother. She's dying of cancer," she says quietly.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, honey. I've accepted it. But I was just about to go home. Until I saw Liz being brought in. It all happened so fast," Sheryl closes her eyes.

"Are we allowed inside?"

She shakes her head. "She's in critical condition."

That door, it's the only barrier between us. If I could just see her, just to see what condition she's in, maybe I could feel better and not so clueless and anxious. But I get the feeling that this anxiousness is better than knowing.

"Where's her grandma?" It barely comes out audibly.

"In the next room," Sheryl nods towards room 240. "She's getting stitches in her arm from where the glass cut her."

"Do you think Lizzie's going to be alright?" I ask quietly, not allowing my mind to process my question too much. I might pass out or literally lose my mind or have a mental breakdown if I let my mind linger on these thoughts.