Demons |¤| Lashton

Let the lights go down; and we will attempt to summon the dead

Ashton's PoV

The hospital never burned down, despite everything. Luke left the room immediately after he said that, leaving me in shock. I ended up panicking and sweating for the next hour, and several nurses had to come check on me because my heart rate wasn't slowing down. The kept threatening me to calm down or else they would sedate me, but it didn't work. If anything, it made it a little worse.

I was afraid the the dream was vision; a twisted and distorted vision at that, but a vision none the less. The hospital in the dream bore frightening resemblance to the one I was in, but maybe that was because I myself have never been admitted to an actual hospital before.

And Luke was really weird in that dream, and if he knew about my dream, did he know how weird he was?

Everything was awful.

Michael and the doctor walked in an hour after Luke had left, and I immediately deepened my breaths. I could get out. If the hospital were to burst into flames, I could escape. I would be okay.

"How is it healing up?" The doctor asked himself, as he checked my stitches. "Ah, nicely, I see," he commented.

A nurse came in and removed my IV, and Michael handed me a fresh set of clothes. "You're going home, mate!" Michael said cheerfully.

"Whoopee, will you look at that," I answered him sarcastically before breaking into song. "I'm coming home, I'm coming home, tell the world I'm coming home," I sang off key. Michael laughed, before leaving the room so I could get dressed.

Michael, on doctor's orders, hadn't given me skinny jeans. He said that tight skinny jeans could interfere with the wound being so low, and it might accidentally catch on the stitches, so I was wearing dad jeans and a sweatshirt. I looked stupid, but it wasn't really important at the moment.

I opened the door. Michael was standing directly across from me, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard me, quickly turning off his phone and slipping it in his pocket.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Get me out of my mind." Michael laughed at the Panic! reference.

"You're funny today," he commented.

"I wouldn't be so funny if you would stop hinting at song lyrics," I jokingly shot back.

"While you were gone, Calum bet 20 dollars that I would get a nose bleed because of the cold. He won."

"Stop making references! Everything sounds fake now," I pouted.

"You started it. And it's okay, Johnny boy," He chuckled, patting me on the back as we walked to the front desk. I saw Calum standing in the waiting room by the desk, waiting for us.

"Calum!" I called, breaking into a run. "Get me away from this man! He is making terrible song jokes!"

"No running!" a nurse yelled. Michael simultaneously yelled, "You're going to hurt yourself!" Really? It was fine. It was a little jog to the receptionist desk to sign out. Chill. I stopped and came up besides Calum, brushing my hair out my face. It had gotten pretty long.

"Irwin, Ashton?" The lady at the desk said. She had these rectangle glasses that reminded me of a librarian, but they didn't make her look old. They made her look smart. She pushed them up her nose with a middle finger and I had to stop myself from laughing.

"That would be me," I answered her. "Did you know that you push up your glasses with your middle finger?" I asked her, my voice lower.

"I do? Crap," she said, her face flushing a little. I laughed.