Savior

The Girl in the Hospital

I get the call at 6:35 that night.

The sun has just begun it's descent in the sky; casting hues of pinks, violent reds, deep purples, sad blues to paint the sky. Violent and soft at the same time.

I have been painting –a small watercolor of Layla today; fingers curled around a stump of pink chalk, fiery hair brushing her shoulders and getting in her eyes. Tee shirt and wrinkled and jeans ripped, but a small smile on her lips that makes my heart race even now.

And then the phone rings and it all changes.

"Harry?" Eliza's voice is frantic, slightly out of breath and it makes my hand immediately stop its movements.

"What? What is it?"

"It's Layla. She's at the hospital. She fainted on the street, but they aren't telling me anything until I get there."

The paintbrush slips through my fingers and although my heart seems to freeze in my chest the rest of me is on my feet, slipping on a jacket, and rushing out the door.

"On my way."

The walk to the hospital seems to take hours: my feet don't move fast enough, no matter how hard I push them, my lungs wheeze trying to take in enough air to keep moving, and my mind never ceases its rapidly increasing negative thoughts.

Everyone in the streets seem to cut in front of me, the red blinking hand stops me from crossing the street at every corner, and the whole while my mind is on her.

Every step is Layla, every breath is Layla, every thought is Layla.

Why she fainted, who found her, if she hurt her head, if someone caught her, if she is scared, if she wants me with her...

There is no word to accurately describe the irrational fear that ices my veins, chills my bones, and rattles my heart at what seems to be a simple fainting spell.

But, this is Layla.

The girl I was just writing chalk messages to less than three hours ago.

The girl I love.

And even a fainting spell has me thinking the worst.

My troubling thoughts don't subside until I am walking through the doorway of the hospital, the overwhelming stench of disinfectant and bleach unsettling my stomach. The fluorescent lights overhead blind me, but I don't stop until I'm at the nurse's station.

But, as soon as I say Layla's name he deadpans, "Family only."

The words that come out of my mouth next are completely impulsive, but send a thrill through my veins.

"I'm her husband."

And the best thing? He has no reaction –he simply nods his head as if the idea of Layla and I being married is something completely plausible and unsurprising. It's terrible how much my body warms in such a terrible time.

"And the one over there?" The nurse nods his head behind me and I turn around to notice, for the first time, that we are in a full waiting room and that Eliza is by the vending machines, furiously talking to someone on the phone.

"Eliza?"

She turns around immediately, eyes filling with relief when they land on me and she is quick to hang up with whoever is on the other line.

"There you are, I've been calling your cell. They won't let me see her, I'm freaking out."

She looks panicked out of her mind –dark hair in a rat's next atop her head, shirt obviously slept in, and –dear god- one black converse and one black and white converse.