Secrets | Watty Awards Winner 2013

Chapter 7

I feel numb. I should feel panicked, fearful and worried... but I don't. I don't feel anything.

I squeeze my eyes shut and feel my father's fingers intertwined with mine. They are limp and I'm the one who's grasping them so tightly that my hands hurt.

The ride to the hospital seems long. The paramedics watch my father with grave expressions. Every few seconds, he takes a quivering breath and his whole body shudders with the effort He wears an oxygen mask and his face is ashen. His eyes are tightly shut and a thin sheen of sweat glistens across his forehead.

A lump fills my throat, pressing against my windpipe and making it impossible to breathe. I want to cry- to break down and get everything out of my system- but the tears don't come. My breath quickens and I release my father's hand to grab fistfuls of my dress. I clutch them so strongly that I feel my nails digging into my palms through the thin material of the dress.

We get to the hospital and my father is whisked away. I try to follow them but a surgeon stops me and tells me to go to the waiting room. I stare at him as he disappears down the hallway before turning around. The hospital lights hurt my eyes. The whiteness of it burns my retinas and makes me blink. The air smells heavily of sanitiser and cleaning products. The scent is unpleasant and I can't help thinking that the chemical smell is just a pathetic attempt at masking the odour of blood and death.

I roam the hallways in a daze until I reach the entrance again. There are a few people waiting to be treated- a woman coughing up blood, a man with a nasty gash running from the middle of his cheek to his chin, a child holding her arm at an awkward angle; I walk past them and into the night. The cool air brushes past my cheeks, cooling them down.

"Ari!"

I turn around and see Will running towards me. He has abandoned the formal jacket he'd had on earlier and his cheeks are flushed. Before I can stop him, he wraps his arms around me and crushes me in a tight hug. I don't respond, too shocked to even move. My eyelids flutter shut as his scent envelopes me. He smells of soap and his woody-scented cologne makes my tense muscles relax. Tentatively, I return his hug. It feels weird to hug someone again- to wind my arms around someone's neck and lean on them for support. I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt- fast and strong. There's something calming about its consistency, reliability. He's warm and solid, unmoving like a rock.

Carefully, I push Will away and avoid his searching gaze.

"Let's go for a walk," he says. "I hear that this hospital has gorgeous gardens."

He puts an arm around my shoulders and presses me against him. Annoyance sparks inside me for a moment but dies away. As much as I dislike having to depend on someone, I need someone to lean on tonight- but just for tonight. One night can't hurt.

The gardens are dark, illuminated only by a lone street lamp in every section. We make our way through the mazes of bushes until we find a bench. It's wooden and creaks when we sit down on it.

"My parents used to bring me to this lake-house we had out in the country. We'd have the best fun- I mean, my dad taught me hunting and fishing and sometimes, we would invite our cousins down and we'd go for swims in the lake," Will says quietly. "I miss my childhood. Those days were the best."

I don't say anything in response. I don't even move my hand away when he reaches over and squeezes it. I wait for him to take his hand back; but he doesn't.

The air is soft and cool. It's quiet- peaceful. Faraway, I can hear the sirens of an ambulance as it speeds back to the hospital. I wonder who it carries inside and I feel a twinge of sympathy for the poor soul.