‘Call me a doctor! I need a doctor!!’ John shouted as he entered the emergency’s hall, Sarah in his arms. Unconscious. Around him, patients and visitors stared at him, frozen in time. A woman in white ran toward him while instructing John to put her on a bed before stepping aside. She checked her vitals, plugged tubes in her before establishing a course of action.
‘I want a CT and a X-ray! Let’s go, people!’ She ordered. ‘You! Tell me what happened to her.’ she stopped to ask as her team headed to the elevator. John stood there in silence, breathless, his eyes locked on Sarah. ‘Hé!! What happ…’. A disruption attracted her attention. John turned around: a young man stumbled in, disfigured and blood coming out of his mouth profusely. John stared at him, memorizing the pitiful state of the young man. A second doctor ran to him for an examination. The female doctor understood that there was a relation between them, then asked an intern to call the police and keep an eye on John: ‘You! Stay here until the police arrives.’ She caught up with her patient and disappeared behind the door of steal.
‘Are you hurt? Are you bleeding from somewhere?’ The intern asked. John looked at his shirt and realized a red stain covered his chest. He shook his head: ‘I’m fine.’ Minutes later, two policemen made their entrance at the hospital. They briefly spoke to chief of surgery before turning their attention to John.
‘Are you the one who brought the young girl?’ One of the officers asked. John nodded. ‘What’s your name?’
‘What’s the victim’s name and what are your relationship with her?’
‘Sarah Jefferson. She’s a friend of mine.’
‘What happened?’ John took a moment to answer.
‘I don’t know. I found her on my way to a friend’s house.’
‘An alley, next to Luther Street. I heard someone begging for help. So i went to check and i saw her, lying in her blood.’ As he said those words, he tried to contain a wave of anger. The officer noticed his effort.
‘Luther street. It’s far from here. Did you carry her all the way?’ John couldn’t believe what the officer was implying.
‘I didn’t beat her up, if that’s what you mean.’ The officer locked his eyes on his with a smirk.
‘And do you know the other victim?’
‘No. Never saw him.’ The officer scanned his facial expression again then took notes.
‘We’ll stay in touch.’ As he walked away, John grabbed his phone and dialed a number.
‘Where are you?’
The night was early and everything was ready: chips and crackers shared a bed on the table, next to slice of carots and small pieces of sausages. Drinks were separated on another table behind the couch. Lamps were on and a background music filled the room. Spider webs, carved pumpkins and fake ghosts were thrown at every corner of their home.
‘We’re over prepared.’ Charlotte claimed.
‘As always.’ Karen replied.
A phone vibrated on the table. Karen looked at it, her eyes widened in disbelief of the words she was reading: ‘Something happened to Sarah.’ She grabbed her coat, threw Charlotte’s to her and rushed her into a cab to the hospital. When they arrived, they were asked to sit tight in the waiting room until the doctors show up. An hour later, two surgeons came out of a restricted area. Their faces seemed exhausted and closed.
‘Where is the kid?’ A woman asked. ‘The one who brought Sarah Jefferson?’
‘He left a while ago. He said that someone else will come for her.’ A nurse replied.
‘Friend, my ass. Alright. Is anybody here waiting for Sarah Jefferson?’ Karen and Charlotte stood up simultaneously. ‘I am Dr. O’Neill, i am the surgeon in charge of your friend’s case. She had an internal bleeding that we were able to locate and stop. She also has few broken ribs and a broken arm but she made it through the surgery. She is stable, now.’
‘And i am Dr. Turner, neurosurgery. She had a severe bleeding in her brain and a concussion.’ He paused. ‘She is in a coma, for now, but, like Dr. O’Neill, just said: she is stable.’
‘But she will be fine?’ Karen asked. The two surgeon paused and exchanged a look. ‘What? What is it?’
‘Don’t keep us on tenterhooks. Tell us!’ Charlotte became impatient.
‘She will be fine… if she wakes up.’ The neurosurgeon said. ‘Does she have any family we can call?’
‘We already called her parents. They’re taking the first flight in the morning.’ Karen said.
‘Do you wish to see her?’ Dr. Turner asked.
Both girls nodded and followed the doctor to Sarah’s room. A religious silent reigned when they came in. Only the monitor, she was attached to, echoed in rhythm like a bell. She seemed peaceful and yet her body screamed the opposite: a tube came out of her mouth, her head was covered with bandages, her arm was in a cast and her eyes swollen. Charlotte burst into tears.
They decided to spend the night at the hospital and stay on the look out for the moment their friend will open her eyes. As the moon followed its trip in the darkness of space, the adrenaline fueling the girls’s hearts stopped, knocking them to sleep.
In the middle of the night, a noise woke Karen up. The silence of the recovery service was peaceful and scary at the same time. She mildly opened her eyes: the door was semi-closed, allowing light from the hallway to come in. An unusual glow appeared over the bed: someone was standing near Sarah, his hands upon her head. What? A noise attracted Karen’s attention to her left. Another person was leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets and his head plunged into a hoody. The latter turned to her: they exchanged a look but her eyes were heavy and closed by themselves. As she fell back into Morpheus’s arms, it struck her: she has seen those eyes before.
To be continued