The Tales of a Daydreamer
Very Funny, Conscience.
I rolled over with a groan to look at the alarm clock on my bedside table. Three o’clock, and I still couldn’t sleep. I should be doing something more interesting on a Friday night. Or Saturday morning. But I was laying in bed, worried about my stupid mistakes. Can you say “Guilty Concience?”
Or maybe I had that disorder or whatever it was when you couldn’t sleep. Something about a zombiac? No, wait, it was... Insomnia?
Or maybe the fact that I put Hayley Williams in the hospital was going to eat me from the inside out. Oh, that was great.
Why was I even doing this to myself? What was the deal? They said she was just fine; nothing was wrong. She was just special.She was just famous. So they kept her overnight, to watch for ‘complications.’
Stupid, insistent hospital workers. I blamed them for my lack of sleep. I knew what I would do: as soon as a decent, non confused-about-whether-it’s-morning-or-night hour came, I would go visit her. I would make sure she was just fine. She was just fine.
My bed seemed to groan for me as I rolled over again. I pulled my blanket over my head with the wild hope it would make the thoughts go away. It didn’t.
Stupid blanket.
***
The hospital was almost empty, except for the workers. It was almost eight o’clock. Weren’t these things supposed to be full of people, no matter the hour? Did the families stop caring?
Whatever. Easier to find Hayley, I suppose.
I walked to the reception desk. My shoes squeaked annoyingly on the tiled floor, and the blonde lady behind the desk grimaced at me from behind her narrow, black rimmed glasses. When I reached the desk, she forced a smile, but only half payed attention to me. Her speakers were ringing, and I got the feeling she was playing some game. “Can I help you?” Her quiet voice sounded bored.
“Umm...” I dragged a toe across the floor, tracing a square. When I made a wrong move and it squeaked, her eyes narrowed. “Could I, maybe see Hayley Williams?”
The woman sighed and rolled crystal blue eyes skyward. “Room two-oh-two, first hall that way.” She pointed with a long, manicured nail to her left.
“Thanks,” I muttered, rushing off in the direction she pointed. That lady reminded me of a mini-monster, and I wasn’t really in the mood for being eaten.
The hallway she had pointed down was labeled ICU. Did she give me the right room? Maybe she was thinking of someone else... Or maybe they ran out of room anywhere else? Did that happen? I shrugged, watching the numbers on the turquoise walls as I walked by. They counted backwards. 209... 208... 207... 206... 205... 204... 203...
I knocked softly on the next door I got to, but I didn’t get an answer. The door was cracked open, though, so I didn’t see the harm in walking in. My heartrate seemed to double as I saw the frail looking figure in the bed.
She didn’t look fine.
The bandages that were wrapped around her head were a dark pink, almost a red. Her machine was beeping too slow for comfort.
I walked to the foot of her bed, slowly. Her eyes were closed; her eyelids were a strange purple color. I couldn’t hear her breathing, but her chest was rising and falling, slightly. Ever so slightly.
“Hayley...?” I murmured. The pale figure didn’t move.
“It’s no use,” a voice from the corner muttered bitterly.
I swear I jumped fifty feet into the air. My heart felt like it stopped, then restarted at two hundred times its normal pace. The words yelled at the top of my lungs probably weren’t appropriate for my surroundings.
I turned to where the voice was coming from, and wanted to cry. It was Hayley’s little sister, Emily, curled up in the windowsill. She smirked at my reaction, but the entertainment didn’t reach her angry eyes. “Why are you even here? Haven’t you done enough damage?”
I blanched. “I-I... I didn’t mean to... It was an accident...”
“Yeah, whatever.” She stood up from her seat and stalked to the door. “Have fun with your murder victim.”
I watched her walk out the door, closing it behind her. Her short hair danced around her face like a thundercloud. Her words circled in my mind.
What was that supposed to mean??
As I stood there, a thought surfaced in my mind. There was something wrong. I turned around, and when the machine came into view, I realized what it was. The beeping, which had been steadily getting slower, had come to a complete stop, replaced by a constant buzz. Alarm...? ...Alarm!? ALARM! Wasn’t that noise supposed to bring doctors running in to save the patient!?
I ran to the machine. “No! Nonono! Please, don’t do this! I need you to work. I NEED YOU TO STOP.”
It stopped making noise altogether.
I screeched, panicking. “That is NOT what I meant!” I yelled, as the green line continued to not rise and fall. Where were the doctors!?
I fell to the ground in a dead faint as the machine shut off altogether.
***
And I woke up on my floor in my room.
I glanced at the clock and groaned. The demonic numbers told me it was four thirty in the morning. Stupid guilty conscience.
Did consciences have a sense of humor?
Or maybe I had that disorder or whatever it was when you couldn’t sleep. Something about a zombiac? No, wait, it was... Insomnia?
Or maybe the fact that I put Hayley Williams in the hospital was going to eat me from the inside out. Oh, that was great.
Why was I even doing this to myself? What was the deal? They said she was just fine; nothing was wrong. She was just special.She was just famous. So they kept her overnight, to watch for ‘complications.’
Stupid, insistent hospital workers. I blamed them for my lack of sleep. I knew what I would do: as soon as a decent, non confused-about-whether-it’s-morning-or-night hour came, I would go visit her. I would make sure she was just fine. She was just fine.
My bed seemed to groan for me as I rolled over again. I pulled my blanket over my head with the wild hope it would make the thoughts go away. It didn’t.
Stupid blanket.
***
The hospital was almost empty, except for the workers. It was almost eight o’clock. Weren’t these things supposed to be full of people, no matter the hour? Did the families stop caring?
Whatever. Easier to find Hayley, I suppose.
I walked to the reception desk. My shoes squeaked annoyingly on the tiled floor, and the blonde lady behind the desk grimaced at me from behind her narrow, black rimmed glasses. When I reached the desk, she forced a smile, but only half payed attention to me. Her speakers were ringing, and I got the feeling she was playing some game. “Can I help you?” Her quiet voice sounded bored.
“Umm...” I dragged a toe across the floor, tracing a square. When I made a wrong move and it squeaked, her eyes narrowed. “Could I, maybe see Hayley Williams?”
The woman sighed and rolled crystal blue eyes skyward. “Room two-oh-two, first hall that way.” She pointed with a long, manicured nail to her left.
“Thanks,” I muttered, rushing off in the direction she pointed. That lady reminded me of a mini-monster, and I wasn’t really in the mood for being eaten.
The hallway she had pointed down was labeled ICU. Did she give me the right room? Maybe she was thinking of someone else... Or maybe they ran out of room anywhere else? Did that happen? I shrugged, watching the numbers on the turquoise walls as I walked by. They counted backwards. 209... 208... 207... 206... 205... 204... 203...
I knocked softly on the next door I got to, but I didn’t get an answer. The door was cracked open, though, so I didn’t see the harm in walking in. My heartrate seemed to double as I saw the frail looking figure in the bed.
She didn’t look fine.
The bandages that were wrapped around her head were a dark pink, almost a red. Her machine was beeping too slow for comfort.
I walked to the foot of her bed, slowly. Her eyes were closed; her eyelids were a strange purple color. I couldn’t hear her breathing, but her chest was rising and falling, slightly. Ever so slightly.
“Hayley...?” I murmured. The pale figure didn’t move.
“It’s no use,” a voice from the corner muttered bitterly.
I swear I jumped fifty feet into the air. My heart felt like it stopped, then restarted at two hundred times its normal pace. The words yelled at the top of my lungs probably weren’t appropriate for my surroundings.
I turned to where the voice was coming from, and wanted to cry. It was Hayley’s little sister, Emily, curled up in the windowsill. She smirked at my reaction, but the entertainment didn’t reach her angry eyes. “Why are you even here? Haven’t you done enough damage?”
I blanched. “I-I... I didn’t mean to... It was an accident...”
“Yeah, whatever.” She stood up from her seat and stalked to the door. “Have fun with your murder victim.”
I watched her walk out the door, closing it behind her. Her short hair danced around her face like a thundercloud. Her words circled in my mind.
What was that supposed to mean??
As I stood there, a thought surfaced in my mind. There was something wrong. I turned around, and when the machine came into view, I realized what it was. The beeping, which had been steadily getting slower, had come to a complete stop, replaced by a constant buzz. Alarm...? ...Alarm!? ALARM! Wasn’t that noise supposed to bring doctors running in to save the patient!?
I ran to the machine. “No! Nonono! Please, don’t do this! I need you to work. I NEED YOU TO STOP.”
It stopped making noise altogether.
I screeched, panicking. “That is NOT what I meant!” I yelled, as the green line continued to not rise and fall. Where were the doctors!?
I fell to the ground in a dead faint as the machine shut off altogether.
***
And I woke up on my floor in my room.
I glanced at the clock and groaned. The demonic numbers told me it was four thirty in the morning. Stupid guilty conscience.
Did consciences have a sense of humor?