Within These Walls

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"First time?" The man asked, letting the door close behind them and moving to stand beside Louis.

The boy stood between the two of them, still looking at Louis with a smile on his face.

"Uh, yeah. I'm here to sit with a friend."

"Do you know where you're going?"

"No," Louis admitted, looking around the clinic for the first time.

The room they were in was brightly lit with a few dozen white chairs lined in rows to the left of the entrance. Every two chairs were separated by a small table which held various magazines and tissues and a large television hung on the wall at the opposite end of the room.

Only a few people occupied the area, waiting for something and trying to keep themselves occupied.

In front of Louis was a long wooden desk with the clinic's names written in bold letters on the front panel. A pane of glass separating the two receptionists from the rest of the room.

"You can tag along with us, if you'd like," the man said, moving forward toward the receptionists.

Louis hesitated for a moment before following suit.

"If you don't mind," he said quietly, and the man offered him another smile.

"Hi, how can I help you?" one of the receptionists asked, directing the gentleman and the boy to move closer.

The other receptionist looked up from his computer toward Louis, and smiled, inviting him over.

"What can I do for you today?" he asked warmly.

"Um, my friend is here," Louis said, unsure of what else to say.

He glanced toward the man who had been beside him to see he had finished talking to the girl behind the counter and was no standing at the bottom of the stairs with the younger boy, waiting for Louis.

"Just here to sit with them?" the receptionist asked, and Louis nodded. "Okay, and what was their name? I can let you know if they're up there or not."

"Sarah Maine," Louis answered and watched the man behind the counter type something into the computer.

After a moment, he looked back to Louis. "Ah, she should already be in treatment."

Louis nodded and whispered a quiet, 'thank you,' before walking over to the man and, who he could only assume was his son.

Without saying another word, the man began walking up the stairs, his son walking beside him, tripping on a step every-now-and-then. Louis quietly followed.

The three pairs of footsteps echoed off the polished wooden steps as they spiraled their way up to the second floor. Louis hand glided over the golden railing as his eyes scanned the various paintings lining the walls on their ascent.

Photographs of different doctors and nurses with patients sat in between different paintings, showcasing caring smiles and people with the strength to fight for life.

Soon, Louis feet hit the second-floor landing and instead of continuing onto the next flight of spiraling stairs, the man began leading his son down a hall to their right. Louis continued to shuffle slowly behind them.

The brightness of the downstairs lobby had seemingly carried up to the second floor as the cool blue lights hanging form the ceiling bathed the walls causing the white paint to almost glisten.

If it hadn't been for the copious amount of artwork and abstract sculptures littered down the hallway, filling it with colour, the second floor would have felt bleak and clinical. Without the colour, all the hope patients may have felt walking into the clinic would have slowly seeped out of them as the chemicals slipped into their veins.

Louis assumed that was the reasons there was so colour thrown into the decorations. It was warm and welcoming, and Louis felt a little better knowing this was the place helping Sarah.

"Okay," the man said suddenly, coming to a stop outside of a doorway which held no door. "This is where treatment happens."

"Cool," Louis said, not sure on what else to say.

He looked past the man and into the room, trying to see Saah from where he was standing, but couldn't. The room before him shot off to the right and he could only see another reception desk, which was covered in an absurd amount of greenery.

"Are you alright?" the man asked, and Louis looked back at him.

His eyes were scanning Louis face, no doubt in an attempt to read it. Though, Louis was sure the only thing the man could see was the sadness radiating from him.

"Yeah," Louis said quickly, not wanting to linger on his own feelings for too long. "Just nervous."

"It's hard seeing them go through it. But we have to stay strong for them."

The man's words hung in the air for a moment, before he gave Louis a courteous nod before moving into the room before them, leading his son in behind him. Louis took in a deep breath and followed, not knowing what to expect.

Louis smiled at the receptionist as he walked through the doorway, and glanced away as she returned it. Looking to his right his eyes were met with a narrow room with a line of seven large, black, reclining seats with tray tables leaning over each one. Beside them sat machine with buttons and cords coming out of it, along with a drip stand.

The man and his son were greeted by a member of staff and the boy was ushered into one of the chairs to get comfortable, while is father sat down beside him, continuing to hold his hand. Louis' eyes scanned past them and landed on Sarah, one of the two others getting treatment.

There was a girl beside Sarah, who Louis glanced at as he made his way over to Sarah. She looked as healthy as could be and was talking to the middle-aged lady sat beside her—both of them had tears in their eyes and Louis guessed it was their first time there.

As Louis got closer to Sarah, she looked up and as her eyes locked with Louis', she beamed.

"Louis!" She called, and Louis did his best to return her smile, giving her a small wave, too as he came to stand in front of her.

Dark circles ran under her eyes and contrasted against her pale face. She wore no makeup on her face and Louis could tell what Isaac had meant when he said the treatment was taking a toll on Sarah.

She seemed so much skinner than she did even a week prior, and her face looked more sunken and drawn than ever. Her eyebrows were almost completely gone, and with none drawn on it was plain to see. A wig, which almost always donned her head was nowhere to be seen and was instead replaced by a piece of cloth wrapped delicately around it.

Louis felt his breath hitch in his throat.

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A/N: Honestly, I don't think I'm emotionally ready to write through the cancer plot line, y'all. 

Help me through it by voting and commenting ;)

Question:

Are you emotionally ready for the cancer plot line?