Survival

chapter 4.

I didn't know the time when I finally awoke. The curtains had been drawn shut, and just a sliver of light escaped onto the tile floor. I searched the room for a clock, and for any sign of my new friend. Because of him, I had narrowly avoided the monsters in my mind.

I hadn't found either.

The pain in my chest had begun to subside, without the morphine. Maybe that's just because I hadn't moved in about five days. But I liked to believe that my ribs were healing from their little excursion.

My arm was wrapped in a sterile white cast, moving up in class from the makeshift splint I had on since they found me. It was such an unfortunate spot for a break, they had said. The cast had to go the entirety of my arm. So glamorous. Luckily, it was only something minor. I should only have to have it on for four weeks if all goes well.

And it most definitely would.

I had grown accustomed to the smell of alcohol based cleaners and the sickness and dread that hung around this institution; and I couldn't stand it. It did nothing to better anyone's state or situation. It was like they were just lingering, waiting for your death.

I had to get some air. It didn't matter to me what the doctor said. When the windows only open a crack, and that's if you're lucky, how do they expect people to be cooped up in such harsh lighting for so long. It just wasn't going to happen.

I had to go about getting up a certain way, as to not pull anything worse than it already was. I had stood and walked a few times, but always with a nurse's steady hand. This time was going to be a little more tricky: and it sure didn't help anything that they had me physically attached to everything possible. It seemed like half of those machines would have been useless.

I readjusted the bed so that I was sitting almost perfectly straight. A little extra help like that never hurt anybody.

I wrapped my fingers around the IV pole, using that as my support, and hoisted myself to my feet. At first, it took my breath away. The way my stiff muscles stretched was an odd pain that I wasn't anywhere near used to. Although it subsided quickly.

Walking felt foreign. The last week I've been mostly wheeled around, and a few days before that...well, I wasn't given the freedom of movement. It felt good to have this semi-independence.

Slowly but surely, I made my way down the hall: avoiding the nurses station. I didn't want them to tell me to go lay back down.

It wasn't my first time in this hospital. It was close to where I had grown up, and to say the least, I had been here on more than a few occasions.

It was a bittersweet relationship, between this building and I. Partially, I resented it. The people here did nothing to help better my childhood situation even though they had been presented with many opportunities. But on the other hand, it became my safe haven. And that was exactly how I viewed it now.

It is the last shred of familiarity that I have left.

I crept down the halls as stealthily as a woman with broken ribs and an IV pole could. Which in case you were wondering, wasn't very stealthy at all. But I kept moving.

"God, I hope this is still here." I mumbled just under my breath.

I hadn't heard any noise from behind me since I turned down this hall. I was in the clear, and the smile that tore across my lips was sure to have been enormous. I found joy in what I seemed to view as sneaky ways.

There was a door that was positioned to my right. To anyone unknowing, it was just a fire door, an exit maybe. But I knew better because just beyond the heavy metal barricade was my oasis.