Fireflies

Ten years into the future…

I don’t want to, Selena sent Kevin a text message. He sighed as he read it and sent back:

But you have to. You’re not feeling well.

I hate hospitals. I’ve avoided them my whole life. Why should I stop now?

You’re going, Kevin knocked on Selena’s front door shortly after he sent the message. She answered, seconds later, with a disappointed look on her face as she read the message. He smiled as she moved aside to let him inside. She began to write on the small pad of paper she had in her hands.

I feel fine. See? She pointed to her face. I have color in my face again. There’s no reason to go.

“You’re impossible,” Kevin replied. Selena shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

I know.

“Then let’s go,” he grabbed her jacket from the coat rack by the door and handed it to her. She gripped it and slid her arms through the sleeves. He handed her the house keys that were sitting on a table that was also next to the door.

They walked out to Kevin’s car and began the drive over to the hospital.

This place gives me the creeps, Selena wrote as they pulled into a parking spot.

“Me too, but you’ve got no choice,” he said.

Her face fell as they entered the hospital. They walked over to the front desk, where Kevin picked up a clipboard to fill out information for her visit. He followed her to two seats and handed her the clipboard to fill out her information. She paused for longer than he would between questions, and she seemed queasy.

“Selena, you okay?”

She shook her head and began to write in her notebook. Before she could finish, her head hung over the clipboard and vomited over her sneakers. Kevin looked down with fear, seeing that it was mostly blood.

“Uh, we need a nurse!” he called out. Selena didn’t sit back up; she was passed, still leaning over the clipboard.