Dancing With The Devil

As I carefully and steadily laid my body onto the frigidly cold table, straightening my back and then proceeding to move into a circular dome, all I could think about was how good a smoke would be right now. I closed my eyes, imagining the stick in between my fragile lips and then gracefully inhaling it's inhabitants. Just the mere thought made my chest heave.

I kept my eyes closed long after the thought was gone. I remained as still as possible as the machine surrounding me on all sides made curious and odd noises. Several steady breaths later, the platform beneath my body moved out of the dome, serving me on a platter to the nurses that walked into the room.

Nurse Margo was one of them. She smiled at me gleefully and helped me onto my wheelchair. "See anything interesting?" I asked, groggily.

As she wheeled me out of the MRI room she stated that, "Everything looks good."

"And Nicolas?" I asked.

She didn't reply for a brief moment. All that I could hear was the wheels of the chair rolling down the hallway and the occasional beep from some monitor in a nearby room. I had grown accustomed to these noises; They were hospital noises. However, every now and then something would interrupt the regular sounds filling the hallways. There could be a patient screaming and or pulling some sort of scene. There were quite a few hysterical relatives throwing themselves on each other. And of course, the classic freak out and argument over a patient's bill at the end of their lovely stay.

Above all, I enjoyed the patient freak-outs mainly because I had performed a couple of my own within the past week. I had tantrums over medication, my parents, the police officers who asked me questions, and above all, the current state of Nicolas remaining unknown to me.

No one would let up, though. No matter how hard I cried or how many times I sprinted down the hallway to where I assumed his room was, no one thoughts twice about telling me. I suppose it's to help me. If the situation was bad, if something terrible happened, I knew my reaction would be far less pleasant than my previous acts.

Margo sighed, "Soon, Charlotte. You will find out soon."

I bit my index finger's nail aggressively as I was wheeled towards my room. Being in a hospital for three weeks was nowhere near fun. Therefore, I had to entertain myself one way or another. I was nosy. I pried into everyone's business. As we passed room by room, I took up a habit of peering in and checking out what was going on. Normally, it was patients sleeping or watching TV. Sometimes there was a doctor or family member in there. Either way, it was interesting and the most non-boring thing I could occupy myself with.

I was soon to be transferred into the mental patient wing upstairs. Every time I used the words "mental," "crazy," or "physco," to describe my soon to be home away from home, I was scolded by Margo. She would rephrase my words and call it a rehabilitation center. However, I wasn't fooled. Everyday, I mentally prepared myself for what I was to face after my elevator ride upstairs. A couple schizophrenics couldn't be horrible.

I continued to pick at my fingernails, growing bored with looking into my neighbor's rooms. I sighed lightly, my eyes tiredly gazing at my hands in my lap. "I just want to know," I mumbled.

Nurse Margo hadn't heard me. In fact, she continued on speaking, "The officers are here again, hun. Are you okay with that?"

I shrugged, not voicing an opinion.

"We don't want a repeat of last time. If you're too tired or if you don't want to talk they can always come back."

A small grin tugged at the corner of my right lip, "Did I scare them last time?"

Any other doctor or nurse wouldn't have laughed. In fact, they would have gotten angry with me. A patient throwing a fit in the middle of the hallway and then proceeding to have a panic attack was no laughing matter, especially with a case so serious like mine. However, Margo knew the truth and she was honest with herself and me. She let out a sweet-sounding, light laugh, "I think so."

At this point, we had made it back into my room. She set me by the side of my bed and carefully helped me up and into it. I cringed as my weight shifted onto my bad leg. I held in my whimper though. I could cry and freak out about anything aside from my injuries, I promised myself that. I wouldn't be deemed as a wimp.

After setting my wheelchair in the corner, my Nurse turned back around and placed her hands on her hips, "So what is it? Are you ready to talk?"

I smoothed the blanket over me several times, not looking up. After several silent moments, I looked up and said, "I haven't talked at all yet."

"I know you haven't, dear."

Every time the officers came in with looming questions, I refused to speak. They all believe the cause of the accident was some undetectable drug. It wasn't alcohol; they knew that after taking tests on both of us right after the crash. That wasn't the case though. We didn't take anything. Neither of us were stupid kids. We knew not to drive while on something. We weren't thirteen anymore.

"Can I invite him in?" She asked.

My eyes lit up curiously, "Him? There's only one this time?"

She nodded her head stiffly, "I believe he was there on the scene. He asked specifically to be able to question you."

I sunk in my bed a little deeper. I gave Nurse Margo credit. She was extremely patient with me. She handled me well. I sat there sunk over for a good three minutes, debating whether or not she should let the officer in. Part of me was tired and could still feel the cold MRI table on my bare back. That part told me not to let him in. However, the other part, the part that involved Nick and letting the town know that he wasn't on something horrible that night told me to let him in.

People were counting on me. I knew Nicolas was in bad condition. Why else would I never see him around this place?

Despite this, I found myself shaking my head and uttering out a quiet, "No."

I could see the disappointment in her face. She accepted it though, nodding her head softly and turning around to walk out of the room. Before she was completely gone, though, I spoke up, "Margo?"

She turned back in, leaning against the frame.

I pressed and tucked my lips in for a minute, contemplating my next words, "Did Liz call by any chance?"

She shook her head, "No, dear."

"Has she stopped by at all?" Another shake of the head. My heart dropped. "Oh, okay."

Margo sucked in a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Charlotte."

I gave her a small smile, this time shaking my head. "No, no. It's fine. I'm fine."

Before leaving the room and leaving me to my solitude, she assured me, "As soon as I hear from her, you'll be the first to know."

*******************

About four days after I was first emitted into the hospital, I was awoken around three in the morning by a delivery. A fire had taken place at a local apartment, injuring multiple victims. Those who had been harmed by the fire has been delivered to the hospital in a rush.

The placement of my room is the only reason why I'm excited to move upstairs. The Emergency Area of the hospital is about thirty feet to the left of my room. Yes, there are doors and I can't actually hear or see anything that goes on in the rooms and section of the hospital, but everything that goes in there must past me at some point.

So, I was woken up at three in the morning by burn victims, doctors running, relatives screaming, and nurses caring. It was quite brutal. Since I was a fairly new patient, and one that was under a lot of watch, my door was left open at all times. Therefore, I watched with wide eyes as stretcher after stretcher and operating table after operating table passed by my room.

Ever since this tragedy, I have been waking up at approximately three in the morning every day. I don't really mind it, though. I do have the freedom of closing my door nowadays, but I have taken the opportunity at this time every morning to get in my wheelchair and go through the hallways. And that's what I did this morning.

Getting into my wheelchair on my own was always a struggle, but I was able to do it. I could always call a nurse, but I simply didn't want to. I opened my door and wheeled myself out into the hallway. Wheeling myself around helped my bad arm stretch out and feel better. It was a lot more efficient than the physical therapy I had every Wednesday and Friday.

I made my way slowly down the hallway. I liked the hospital better at night.

As I passed by the Nurses station, one of the night shift nurses, Clara, smiled at me, "How are you doing, Charlotte?"

"Same old, same old," I smiled back at her, lightly, "And you?"

"Oh, I'm doing just fine."

I continued on my night adventure down the hallway. It wasn't until I was close to the bathroom that I realized that these trips were limited. Once I was to go upstairs, I wouldn't be able to do this anymore. Once I was upstairs, I wouldn't have freedom anymore. Or at least I assumed that.

As I got closer to the bathroom, I noticed about a ways down the hallway, someone sat across from a room on the floor, their head resting on the wall. I contemplated going up to them. Obviously it wouldn't make much of a difference. I was safe in a hospital. No one was out to get me. However, it was a little odd to have someone just sitting down in the hallway.

The early morning spirit must have gotten to me because before I knew it, I was rolling myself closer and closer to the figure to check the situation out. I was planning on rolling past the person, nodding my head, and continue wheeling down the hallway. No big deal. However, as I got closer, I took notice to who the actual person was.

It was the guy with green eyes that had a small fit of his own in the hallway about a week ago. He was clearly a relative of someone in the hospital. Obviously a relative of someone who used to be in the room next to me and now has had their room moved. After noticing that the guy was asleep, I moved forward until I was in front of them. My cheeks burned as I admired his sharp facial features and his brownish-blondish hair. I bit my lip, my stomach churning inside of me.

I went to continue rolling on, my when my hands gripped onto the wheels and jerked forward, they stopped abruptly. I tried again, my once again, the wheels wouldn't move forward. I scooted my seat forward in hopes to get the wheels to go, but had no luck. I started panicking. I thrust my body back and forth, I pushed on my wheels as hard as I could, I even tried to stand up-anything to get me out of here.

I looked at the guy on my left. Sucking in a deep breath, I spoke up, "Excuse me?"

No response.

"Uh, hello?"

Nothing.

I cleared my throat, "Excuse me?"

I scooted forward slightly and reached out. I tapped the guy on his shoulder.

Still nothing.

I let out a groan now, getting a bit angry. I grabbed his shoulder and shook it. His eyes lifted lightly and he raised his eyebrows, "Huh? What?"

"Excuse me?"

He rubbed his eyes, sitting up and letting out a yawn. When his hands fell he blinked multiple times and then furrowed his brow, noticing the dim lighting in the hallway. Once he realized that he was, in fact, awake, his eyes fell onto me, brightening a bit. "Oh," He let out, "Um, hi?"

I let in a sharp breath, "I'm sorry to wake you and all, but my wheelchair got stuck and I would call down to the Nurses Station, but I don't want to wake anybody."

"Oh!" He woke up a bit, placing his hands on the wall and hoisting himself up. It wasn't until now that I realized how tall he was. Of course right now I was sitting, so it was natural for me to look up at him, but even at my 5'9 height I knew I would still look up at him. "Do you want me to run down there and ask them?"

I nodded my head eagerly, letting out a sigh of relief, "That would be great."

He took a step forward, but stopped before getting anywhere. He turned back around, and then crouched down next to me, "Well, why don't I just take a look and see what's going on?"

I didn't even respond. At this point I was too embarrassed and I didn't even know why. I sat there awkwardly and completely uncomfortable as he examined the wheels.

"Hmmm," He let out, "there seems to be a jam or something."

No way.

"I really appreciate this, but I'm very tired and I just want to get back to my room so if you could-"

He cut me off, "I want to say there's a lost screw, but if that was the case I think the wheel would just fall off."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. It was no use, though. "If you could please just-"

He looked up at me, those bright green eyes staring into my gray orbs. I swallowed again, stopping mid-sentence just to look at him looking at me. I pressed my lips together and looked down in my lap for a moment, letting out a breath, "I just want to get back to my room."

He looked at my braced leg and then at my other leg with the bandaged wrapped around my upper thigh. He nodded his head, taking in my full appearance. I caught him staring at the bald spot behind my ear and the bandage on my upper left arm. His eyes then found the now-healing cut above my eyebrow and the cut along my jawline. This time, I watched him swallow.

He nodded his head, "I can carry you."

I shook my head, my eyes growing wide with worry, "No. It's fine."

He continued nodding his head, his arms opening up and going closer towards me, "Don't worry. I bench press, like, a lot. I don't know the exact number because I just started the whole work out thing, but I know I can carry you."

"Please. I'm fine. It's fine."

"Even if your room is far, I totally can."

I continued shaking my head, then my eyes landed on a vacant wheelchair down the hallway. I let out a breath and pointed towards it. "I can use that."

He turned around and seemed to be over there in a matter of seconds and then wheeling it back to me. "Okay. I'm assuming you need help getting into it?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm good."

"Here, just hold my hand and I-"

"I'm good."

"I'll just help you out, it's fine."

"I said I was good." I spat, standing up slowly and making my way out of the chair. I closed my eyes lightly as my weight shifted onto the bad leg. A knot tied in my throat and I took in steady breaths in hopes to reduce the pain.

I slowly sat down in the other chair, my leg throbbing with pain.

The guy stood near me, then bent down so we were eye level, "Do you want me to wheel you back to your room?"

I shook my head, "I'm okay."

He seemed to catch on not to argue with me this time. He nodded his head and took a seat back down against the wall. I muttered a quick, "Thank you."

"No problem," he responded.

I made it back to where the bathrooms were before I turned around and looked back at him. His head was rested up against the wall again. I had this terrible feeling that as soon as I got back to my room, I would regret not letting him help me. I would also regret the nagging question in my head.

I wheeled myself back to him.

"You do know visiting hours are long over, don't you?"

His eyes flashed open again and he looked over, a small smile forming on his lips, "They made an exception for me."

I raised an eyebrow, "In other words, they find you really annoying and just needed a way to shut you up."

He laughed lightly, "You know everyone pretty well around here, don't you?"

I shrugged, contemplating this for a moment, "I've pretty much sat around and have had people take care of me for the past three weeks. Observations are the only thing I have."

He took his eyes off me for a moment, his head facing forward and looking at the room's door closed in front of him, "Taking observations is important."

I looked at the door as well, "They could have at least let you sleep in the room."

He sucked in a breath, "I chose to sit out here. He would've been mad if I stayed over."

I shook my head, making a face, "I'm assuming you're a friend. I would be thrilled if my friend came to visit me, let alone sleep over for me. The only people I hate staying over are my parents."

I expected a chuckle or at least a half-assed laugh, but I got nothing. All he said was, "Cousin. He's my cousin."

I tried to make the situation a little lighter, "Well my cousins live in New Hampshire, so if they got their asses all the way out here I'd be thrilled."

Still nothing. Barely a smile.

It was weird to be trying to please someone else. These past three weeks had been all about me. Everyone was trying to please me and make sure I was okay. Meanwhile, here I was with this stranger who was clearly distraught and torn up about something and I was desperately hoping his cousin was okay.

"I should be getting back to my room. I hope everything turns out okay. Have a goodnight-or morning, I should say." I started to wheel backwards.

He nodded his head, looking over at me, "Good morning." He smiled lightly.

I wheeled myself away and once again, stopped by the bathroom and looked around at the stranger once more.

This time, he was looking too.