Hectic Hospital

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*Two weeks ago*

My eyes flutter open slowly, focusing in one bland room: two arm chairs, plain white walls, a curtain in the middle, enclosing me in my tiny corner, cuddled in the four poster bed.

My uncle Peter sits at the foot of my bed, gripping my hand gently. His head is rested on the bed, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and shallow.

I gasp a little, he's supposed to be dead. Forcing my mouth to twist into a smile, I close my eyes again. Just the energy it took to open them has drained me completely.

And then comes the bang.

Peter jolts awake, leaping to him feet. He releases my hand and runs to the door.

And only then do I notice the storm outside the tiny window.

The trees blow from side to side, farther than they should and torrential downpours pound the ground and the people in its path.

Power lines are flying everyone, setting off bursts of electricity. People sprint indoors, screaming bloody murder, away from the dangerous weather.

Peter stands at the door, watching people bustle by, completely ignore the two of us.

"Hey!" He shouts. "Can someone tell me when they're getting my niece out of here?!"

His niece.

It feels good to have an alive relative, besides for the brother I tried to kill a few weeks ago.

The nurses and doctors rush by, but nobody stops by our room. And then a pretty woman with curly brown hair runs in, taking deep breaths.

"She needs to-"

But when she catches sight of Peter, she stops dead, her face goes slack.

Peter whips around and he stops too, they must know each other. They have to.

The nurse backs away slowly and I catch a glimpse of her name tag. Melissa McCall.

Scott's mom.

"You're supposed to be dead," she whispers, her voice shaking.

Peter doesn't show any sign of emotion. "I get that a lot actually."

And then my stomach churns, twisting and turning my insides.

I sit up and gag, black liquid and white balls of something falling onto the floor next to my bed.

Peter grabs Melissa and forces her behind his body, stepping away from me an my sickness. Whatever it is.

The black fluid sprays on Peter's pants and the tips of his shirt, making him cringe slightly.

I stop throwing up and fall into the floor, my head pounding and my heart thumping.

Melissa steps away from Peter, looking at his scared face, his bright blue eyes.

"Thank you," she whispers.

He doesn't respond. He just looks down at the ground and mutters, "Mistletoe."

*****

The next thing I know, I'm lying on a hard tabletop, my body hurting all over.

A voice breaks the uncomfortable silence filling my ears, coming from the speaker on the wall. "If you ever want me back, you'll do what Deucalion wants. Just do what he wants Scott. Please." Melissa.

And then the back up generator turns off and there's only silence.

Scott's face is dark, his eyes closing as if he can't stand to listen anymore. His mom. With Deucalion.

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