6 Truths And A Lie

1 (Hospitals and Bookstores)

Hospitals hold regret, pain, relief, life, death, memories, and prayers.

Most humans are born in hospitals, and most die in them as well.

The barrier between life and death exists solely within these walls.

There are plenty of people in the waiting room, Belle flips through a magazine, and Henry approaches us with three granola bars. A tall, dark-haired woman sits across from us impatiently tapping her heel on the ground. She glances at her watch again. Belle's mom sits properly tying her golden blonde hair into a ponytail, her back straight and her skirt barely above her knees.

The room is quiet. It is 10:51 PM after all. I take the granola bar out of Henry's grasp and thank him before tearing the packaging open. Belle politely declines Henry's offer, he responds with a shrug and slumps into the chair next to me.

I stare at the woman with dark hair. Well, staring isn't the best word to use. It would be obscene to stare, so every once in a while I glance around so she won't assume I am looking at her.

She looks busy, almost like she has somewhere to be. She repeatedly checks her watch, and her eyes are glued to her phone. She sighs quite often and shifts in her seat.

She's not acting in any way like a concerned mother whose child was transferred to the emergency room.

Then again, how would I know how a properly concerned mother behaves, I have no mother at all.

"Have you heard any updates on the Paris case?" Henry asks, his brown eyes looking right across me to meet Belle's blue gaze.

"No, not any yet," Belle says. "I assume she just ran from home like the brat she is"

I look across the room, a missing poster is plastered on the wall. A girl with curly light brown hair smiles in the picture.

Paris has been missing for several weeks now. Belle keeps convincing herself it's all just some big misunderstanding. I'm not so sure it is anymore.

I had never met Paris but I do know about her. I'm sure plenty of people do. She's the captain of the student council, organized every single school event Daisy Creek High had to offer and did it all while making daily appearances at parties.

A woman enters the room with a clipboard in her hands. She looks up from it and clears her throat causing the rest of the room to draw their attention towards her.

"Amber is accepting visitors now".

The hallways of the hospital are white, and so is the floor. It smells like disinfectant wipes, and people rush by us. As I walk I slide my fingers over the wall. Beeping sounds can be heard in the distance. We gather in an elevator.

I don't know Amber, but Belle dragged me to her ballet performance. Her dancing was beautiful, she looked like one of the paintings hung up in our ballroom. She glided and slid across the floor like she was nothing but air.

When I was younger I pretended to be a ballet dancer. I would put on one of my elegant dresses and jump and skip all across the patio before nearly dying from an asthma attack. Sometimes my mother propped a chair up and sat across from me, throwing paper roses at the end of each performance. She told me the world was my stage, all I had to do was just give an unexpectedly beautiful performance.

At the end of Amber's performance, she lost balance and fell. She looked up at the audience grabbing a hold of her wrist, tears at the brim of her eyes. People rushed to her, propping her up and pulling the curtains closed. Belle immediately stood and rushed out of the room, I followed close behind. She comforted Amber as she repeatedly told everyone she was okay.