Feather

23 - Romeo & Juliet

The line felt longer tonight, stretching out ahead of me as I stood waiting for the night pills—the ones that were supposed to knock us out and keep us quiet.

The crackling of the fluorescent lights above my head further enhanced the silence. Amber stood at the front beside Irina—the head nurse, who always seem to look down upon us as if we were less than human.

I did not want to look into Irina's eyes. She was the oldest and the meanest. Cold, cold eyes. And she had this way of making you feel small, invisible.

Tonight, she was pacing, checking everyone, making sure no one stepped out of line. I could feel my hands trembling as I got closer to the front.

When finally it was my turn, I walked towards Amber, my heart racing underneath my tunic so hard that I knew it would give me away. She held out the small cup, and for a second, I froze. The cup was empty. There was no pill in it. Amber's expression didn't change; there wasn't even a flicker of emotion, just that same blank stare as always. I swallowed the lump in my throat and did what I had been watching everyone else do.

Pretend to swallow. Pretend like nothing's wrong.

I tilted the cup, faked to swallow, and just hoped it had looked realistic enough. Irina proceeded down the line, inspecting mouths, peering into us as though we were concealing some sort of contraband under our tongues. When she reached me, I opened my mouth as wide as I could and did my best not to look nervous. My stomach twisted as her eyes lingered on me just a second too long. Then she moved on.

I went to my room, shut the door, and was both relieved and scared. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited in the dark. The minutes ticked by, seeming like hours, as my heart still pounded from nearly being caught.

Then, the door creaked open.

Amber slipped inside, silent as a shadow, gesturing for me to stay quiet. I nodded. She gestured toward the door, and I followed her, tiptoeing into the hall. My pulse quickened as we moved through darkened halls. Every creak beneath my feet made my breath catch in my throat.

I did not know where we were going, but knowing Amber was Thomas's girlfriend made me a little bit at peace.

Amber opened the stairwell door, and it was then that I saw two other nurses that I had never seen before. I just wanted to run away. I could feel the lump in my throat trying to build up again, and the tears that I had been fighting off were ready to spill over.

Then Amber smiled at me. A small, reassuring smile that, in the darkness, seemed like light alone. She reached out and took a set of keys from one of the nurses. Without a word, she took my hand. Her grip was firm, and somehow, that stilled the flood of panic from taking over completely.

As we went deeper down the stairwell, the air shifted colder and thicker with each step.

First, there was the smell—wet and moldy, the walls drenched with years of dampness. It smelled like a sewer, that acrid decaying scent that clung to all it touched. The farther down we went, the more it wrapped itself around us until it became difficult to breathe.

The walls seemed tighter here, slick with moisture that seemed untouched in years. Each breath I'd taken had felt heavy, as if the air itself was pushing us back. I heard, very faintly, the sound of water dripping, it seemed, from leaks deep within the stone. It was darker than any part of the hospital I'd seen, and the minimal light coming from tiny bulbs overhead seemed able to penetrate very little of this gloom.

The whole place felt wrong, like it shouldn't exist like we'd stepped into some sort of hidden part of the world that no one was ever supposed to see. My footsteps faltered, but Amber's grip on my hand kept me moving.