A Little Love Collection

Eight

I love the feeling of someone touching my hands.

There's something soothing about the innocence of a hand touch, something that makes my heart beat more confidently. There's something about it that whispers "It's going to be okay."

Someone is holding my hands in theirs. I can feel them lightly rubbing the top of them with their soft fingertips. Charlie?

I open my eyes. Mom.

The world around me begins to come into focus. A flurry of colors around me become shapes. White. I see white everywhere. White walls. White sheets. White faces.

Beep... Beep... Beep... A monitor?

Piecing it together, I look down. I'm covered in thin sheets from my waist down. I try moving my stiff legs and then my arms to sit up. Something sends a searing pain down my left arm. What the hell? I look down and find an IV line connected to the middle of my left arm with a needle.

What's going on? Why am I in a hospital bed?

"Mom?" I don't even recognize my voice. It's raspy and forced.

"Oh Ella!" I can see the relief in her eyes. Her eyes. They look so tired. How long has she been here?

"What happened? Why am I in this bed?" I look around the room frantically, "And what's this for?" I point to the IV needle.

"Do you remember falling? You blacked out the other night when..." she trailed off, not looking into my eyes.

"When?" I say too forcefully.

"Ella, I think you should get some more sleep"

My eyes widen as I remember the series of events that went down before...Charlie. Where is he? I needed to find him right now. I remember seeing his face right before...

"Where's Charlie?"

"I-I don't know" Lies.

"Tell me!" I could feel my frustration boiling to the surface of my skin.

"Ella" she breathed softly.

The sympathy I saw in her eyes made me crazy. I didn't want to play this game. I needed to find him. I awkwardly stumbled off the bed and began to walk away when...

"Ouch!" I yelped. This damn IV needle.

I took a deep breath and impulsively ripped it off, sending a small teardrop of blood to trickle down my arm.

"Where are you going?!" my mom screamed, appalled at what I had just done.

Barefoot, I ran for the door and went flying out of the room. I heard my mom's voice calling after me. I ran and ran until her voice became distant.

The sanitary smell seized my nose and my throat became sore from gulping large breaths of air. The doctors and nurses threw me concerned looks as I sprinted past them. Some of them looked at me understandingly, almost as if saying I would run away too, if I could.

Where's Charlie's room? There are so many rooms...

What was the number again? They all look the same...

317? I stopped in front of the door labeled 317. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I expected to see and opened the door.

An old man lay in a pile of white sheets. What the hell.

I quickly closed the door, red flushing my face. Okay, so definitely not 317.

"Did you see her running?"