Dreamcatcher

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Closure

When visiting hours almost came to an end, Joyce, Max, Rachel and Ophelia all gave Clark hugs and kisses before their departure.

A nurse had entered the room to administer consumable medication for Clark to swallow so that his body recovered at an effective, average rate to ensure that he healed up quickly and left within the seven days according to his doctor.

"Good evening, Clark. Time to take your medicine." The nurse, a gorgeous young woman with long, dark burgundy red hair, spoke in a deep, soothing voice.

The nurse placed a tray on Clark's bedside table and dispensed two oval-shaped white pills and handed that and half a glass of water to Clark, which he took and slapped the hand with pills over his mouth before flushing it down with the entire half-glass of water down his throat.

"Thanks, Megan," he croaked appreciatively.

"You seem to have good friends, Clark. Seeing you all afternoon like that. Must be nice."

"They're the best."

"Was that your kid?"

"Yeah. Her name is Ophelia, she's three years old."

Megan held her hands together and cooed. "She's so adorable."

"She's got her mother's looks."

"And your smile, I noticed. Do you need anything else?"

Clark shook his head and sent a little smile her way.

With nothing else to do for him, the nurse walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her, leaving Clark in dead silence.

So what he did was reach for his phone lying on the bedside table and unlocked it by entering a four-digit code so he could access the internet. Given that his phone was only at a forty-two percent charge, he wasn't certain it would last him the night.

Given that he didn't have any suitable alternatives to help him fall asleep faster, he decided to put something on the television which he hoped would bore him until he fell asleep. Grabbing the remote, Clark turned on the television mounted on the wall on the opposite side of the room, facing him, and scrolled through the channels briefly until he found something he liked.

But just as he got comfortable and set to hit slumber, he felt an urge develop, making him groan obnoxiously loud.

"Great. Gotta pee now." Clark grumbled to himself as he fought through pain in his stomach to get out of bed.

Even when he attempted not to exert himself physically too much, it proved to much of a task to complete all by himself.

Slowly, Clark turned around so his legs hug over the bed. Using his legs to attach firmly to the side of the bed, he pulled himself towards the edge very slowly and delicately until his feet touched the cold floor. The cold pricked the soles of his feet as he stood up as straight as he could before dragging his feet along towards the bathroom. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead due to the physical pressure in making his way to the bathroom.

Once he reached the bathroom, Clark let himself inside and did his business with less effort until he made his way back to bed. The same physical strain provided a gut-punch type of feeling as Clark struggled to get to bed.

That pain was relieved as soon as he laid back down and rested. The pain slowly went away but lingered for too long until Clark could manage to fall asleep.

Come morning, Clark awoke to the sound of items clattering and machinery making noise. Footsteps wandered around his bed, followed by very faint childish moaning.