The Room Upstairs by Iain Rob Wright

Author:Iain Rob Wright [Wright, Iain Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ulcerated Press
Published: 2020-02-12T05:00:00+00:00

14

I’ve always had a thing about hotel beds. Whatever the size or quality of mattress, I sleep like a log, and that night at the Vixen was no different. Sleep came easily just minutes after I tucked myself beneath the crisp sheets of the hotel’s double bed. My slumber was so deep that when I woke up, it took me several seconds to realise where I was.

Sarah had shared the bed with me but apparently got up first. I heard a hairdryer blaring, which meant she had already taken a shower. I didn’t want to get out of bed yet. The events of the past couple of days hadn’t yet fully come back to me and I wanted to make the most of being safe and cosy.

I lay there for five more minutes until Sarah appeared and attempted to rouse me. Fully dressed, she was brushing the tangles from her hair. “Get up, Martin. Mum says we can go back to the hospital and check on Courtney.”

I shuffled up the bed and leant against the headboard. “Has anyone called? Do we know anything?”

She stopped grooming her hair and stared at the brush, rolling it back and forth in her hand. “Mum called them first thing, but they wouldn’t tell us anything. We’re not family.”

“That’s stupid. We’re the ones who brought him in.”

“Maybe his parents don’t want us to know. I’ll go find them when I get there. They need to hear how much I love Courtney.”

“You love him?”

“I think so.”

“Wow.”

She shrugged. “Either way, I’m going to help him through this. I won’t abandon him.”

Sarah wasn’t the kindest person, but she seemed to mean what she said. But how would it even work? Courtney couldn’t see or hear, or speak either. What relationship did she expect to have with him? What relationships could Courtney ever hope to have with anyone ever again? It sucked so badly. He was a good guy and his life was ruined. It would probably have been better if he had died. In fact, I wished he…

No! I stopped myself. Don’t wish for anything. That’s what Thomas Quick said. Don’t wish. Don’t even think it. I had wished for a Big Mac and Sarah had wished for Courtney to be at our house. Stupid, simple wishes, but…

Had we caused this?

“Sarah,” I said, my mind buzzing with a dozen thoughts, “this’ll sound really strange, but don’t wish for anything, okay?”

She had resumed brushing her hair, but once again she stopped and looked at me. “What d’you mean?”

“The man who spoke to me at the hospital mentioned wishes. I think bad things happen when we wish for stuff.”

“What are you talking about, idiot?”

I rubbed sleep from my eyes so I could focus on her fully. “Look, Sarah, just promise me you won’t make any wishes, okay? Please?”

Her lips parted like she was going to insult me again, but instead she shrugged. “Okay, fine. I promise I won’t blow out any candles or make any wishes. Just get up, will you?”

I relaxed against the pillow.

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