The Omen and the Legend by Maxine Miley

Author:Maxine Miley [Miley, Maxine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-02T22:00:00+00:00

29

-The Hospital-

There were numerous muted aches seeping through the heaviness of sleep but it was the angry, biting pain in her right arm that finally pulled her to full wakefulness. She opened her eyes, aware of people talking quickly and rushing around each other. Closer, there was a steady, beeping noise and the faint smell of plastic trickled into her nostrils through a pliable tube.

She remembered a fireman pulling her out of the collapsed church basement. She remembered the ambulance ride, the oxygen mask and being prodded with needles. She had warned them with tears and frantic pleas; she had cursed and struggled against them as they tried to restrain her from her own hysterics. She remembered loosening one of her arms and dummy-slapping the closest medic, leaving a large red handprint on his pasty white face. Then the medics drugged her and a blanket shrouded her thoughts as she relaxed and then slept.

Now she was awake. She wondered how long she’d been out, but more importantly she wondered how long until sunset. She slipped the covers down to her waist and saw the thin hospital gown she was now wearing. A fresh, white bandage cocooned her right arm and IV tubing sprouted from her left.

She used her left hand to loosen up the sheet that was tucked in around her and then tried to turn over on her side. She bumped her right arm on the side rail and yelped as fresh pain shot up her arm.

Within seconds, the curtains surrounding her bed parted enough for a face to poke through. It was a man’s face, smiling and inquisitive. “You’re awake,” he observed.

Cheryl nodded sleepily. The man took this as an invitation to step completely inside the curtains. She could now see his blonde hair and dark purple hospital scrubs. “How do you feel?”

Eyebrows knit, she considered his question, “I’ve been better,” she finally said and was momentarily shocked by her thick, garbling voice and the pain in her swollen mouth as she spoke. Then suddenly she asked, “What time is it?”

The smiling man in purple looked at his watch. “It’s 11:30…”

“In the morning?” she quickly asked.

“Yes. You’ve slept for a couple hours.”

Cheryl relaxed a little, knowing that there was still plenty of time before nightfall. The cartoonishly happy man picked up a bedside chart and started writing on it. “What’s your name, dearheart?”

“Cheryl Collins,” she lied.

“Are you a minor?”

“I’m eighteen,” she answered. Another lie.

“Very good. I’ll call admissions and they’ll come and get you set up in our computer system. But for now, I’m Tim and I’ll be looking after you for the next four hours or so.” His smile was extra wide now and his teeth almost seemed to glimmer under the fluorescent lights. Tim put his chart down and glided his stethoscope across her chest while listening and instructing her to breath.

She grimaced as the deep breaths spiked pain up the side of her torso. The nurse finished and removed his stethoscope. “Your ribs aren’t broken,” he told her.

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