Say Your Prayers, You're Really Gonna Need Them.

★ ★ ★ - Indicates point of view change.

*******

“2 hours.” I muttered to myself quietly.

My arse had been fused to this seat for 2 whole hours; the only conversation I had received from an old lady who had been telling me about her husband and even she had been called in a good half hour ago.

Straightening my legs out in front of me, enough to feel my muscles awaken but not enough to trip anyone over; I stretched lazily.

My mum had called late yesterday evening, explaining that I had my hospital check up appointment booked in first thing.

I was a little perplexed at its lateness, but never the less agreed to go.
So here I was waiting, watching as the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness.

Casting my eyes around I looked at the hospital passersby’s, some in uniform, others with IV drips embedded into their arms and some being pushed in wheelchairs.

I swear my eyes were about to shut when I suddenly saw a flash of black hair.

Bolting upright I watched the retreating figure carrying on his way without even a glance in my direction.

Could it be?

Standing up I began to follow, it wasn't far before he had stopped at a booth; conversing with the receptionist.

I waited behind him, and tapped him on the shoulder after their conversation ceased.
Holding my breath I waited for him to turn around to face me, not knowing what to even say.

“Harl...” I began, but was cut short as I was faced with a complete stranger, a perplexed expression drawn all over his face.

“Oh! I’m so sorry; I thought you were someone else.” I mumbled stupidly just as my number was called.

Great timing.

I angrily fumed, before smiling sheepishly at the stranger once more before walking as casually as I could toward the nurse who has called out my patient number.

The hospital still stank like antiseptic, and it seemed no matter where you were you could always smell the cafeteria, stale and unpleasant.

I was now sat in an office, alone and waiting for the doctor; which the nurse had assured me would be in my company shortly.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.
The clock on the wall chirped impatiently.

I was still embarrassed, why on earth did just approach that stranger?

3 weeks had passed without word from Harlan; he wouldn’t just turn up here.

He hadn’t been at college, pubs, anywhere I was, he wasn't.

It’s like he’s just disappeared.

Even Ellen had noticed his absence, quizzing me like I knew anymore than she did.

But of course I didn’t, I understood though why she would have thought I would or should, anyone would have thought we were seeing each other and if that was the case I would have been aware of any future absences.

My thoughts were cut short by the door opening and a dishevelled looking doctor filing in.

He flung himself down on the seat across from me, separated by a large wooden desk.

“Sorry for the wait,” he looked down at the file in front of him, “...Ruse, I’m Doctor Larkin.”

He finished a little breathlessly, before gesturing towards his name badge as if to prove his identity and offering his hand for me to shake, which I did.

“Oh, cold hands... usually that’s a doctor’s calling card.” He joked as I re-placed my hand in my lap.

“Yeah, my hands are always cold recently.” I frowned, to be honest I hadn’t actually noticed... but he was right, they were always cold.

Dr Larkin nodded, his brown hair catching in the light; making the odd silver strands glitter as he wrote down what I said.

“Well, this is your follow up appointment; we need to check your vitals and such to make sure you’re well again.” He nodded with a friendly smile.

He did my blood pressure and height before I was led to the scales.

“145, meaning you’ve lost 10 pounds since your last admission, are you eating properly?” he asked with a small frown.

“Well, I eat when I can. I’m in college, I work and my mum’s also away at the moment so I must admit I don’t always sit down to eat a full blown healthy meal just because I'm usually pretty beat after a long day.” I admitted.

“You’re going to have to change that, I’m pretty certain that you have anaemia, which means your red blood cell count is low. It could be nothing to worry about, but on the flipside it could be long term side affect from your illness last month.”

“Have you figured out what the illness even was to begin with?” I asked and Dr Larkin shook his head.

“Not yet, sadly these things take time. I’m going to send you for blood tests, they will determine whether or not you do indeed have anaemia and then we can treat you accordingly.”

“Do you know when I’ll receive the test results?”

“Should be in a week’s time, until then I suggest plenty of rest, have you been feeling particularly lethargic?” he asked.

“Well yes, but that’s nothing out of the norm for me, with a busy schedule and such.” I shrugged and he nodded.

“And I do have to ask, when it comes to your monthly cycle are they regular? Do you lose a large quantity of blood?”

I winced a little; it wasn't the type of question I was used to discussing with man, especially not a stranger.

“Sorry, I know it’s a personal question, but it is important as it could be a factor.” Dr Larkin asked, mirroring my uncomfortable expression.

I opened my mouth to speak but instantly I thought about Harlan, could it be possible that his drinking of my blood was the cause of this?

“Uhm that’s okay. Yes, they usually are a little on the heavy side.” I lied with a pained smile which once again Dr Larkin mirrored; it made me want to smile despite myself, he so didn’t want to be asking me this, just as much as I didn’t want to be speaking about it.

He quickly scribbled what I had told him down into my file, before asking me whether I wanted to have a blood test performed by him there and then, or by haematology.

I opted for him to do it, although I would of rather of not had it done at all; blood tests were not my strong suit.

“Is it possible for me to have it done in my hand? Only my veins collapse in my arms and I usually have to have each arm stabbed about 3 times and it still doesn’t work meaning they end up in my hand anyway... so it just cuts down time...I suppose and...” I babbled before he cut me off.

“Yes that’s fine, try and relax.” He said as he took the cap off the needle.

I felt my heart beat quicken and I was aware that my whole body was damp from sweat and my hands were now so cold that it felt like I’d been holding lumps of ice.

Dr Larkin sat down in a chair next to me, needle in hand and I practically began hyperventilating.

“Miss Salvin?” he asked, but it sounded muffled.

My mouth was dry and my ears were making a whooshing sound, everything sounding as though I was down a tunnel.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the needle, and by now even my vision of that was becoming blurry.

“Ruse?” the doctor asked again.

I couldn’t answer him, I couldn’t breathe properly.

“I...think...I’m gonna Fai...” I whispered.

As I slumped forward and out of the chair, I was too quick for Dr Larkin to catch me.

And the last thing I felt was the impact my head made against the linoleum floor and the blackness that quickly followed.