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s t a r t a g a i n

As Aria set foot on the local hospital, she was panting and drenched in sweat. Running from school to the place was taxing. She caused a lot of turmoil earlier after talking to Mr. Anderson, the principal. He explained the details to the obviously astonished daughter. He stated fragments of what happened. He was told that she was running hurriedly when it occurred, she got hit by a car and the driver took her to the nearest hospital. Luckily, there wasn’t as much patients to be nursed so she had the doctors’ full attention. They said that she was in a comatose.

As Mr. Anderson continued, all the information shook Aria completely. Although she felt like breaking down, her eyes remained dry as the desert but cold and dark as the night. “You’ll be staying with your aunt Miranda. She called earlier and said that she’ll pick you up tomorrow.” The principal added.

If not with the accident, Aria would have been beyond stoked to go back. But, for some reason, going back didn’t cross her mind. The sadness engulfed her quicker that she expected it to. It was almost toxic, deadly. Mr. Anderson dismissed her with an apology, “I’m sorry for what happened,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” Aria rose up and shot him a sad smile before dashing to her classroom.

               

Aria twisted the doorknob too fast and pushed it too strong. The students, awakened from their brain slumber, stared at her with widened eyes. Her teacher also stared at her, but he did it with more intensity. He had mad, dark eyes that we’re from long nights of studying. Aria shook of the look he gave her as it tried to lurk in her head inch by inch. “I have to go,” she said, speed walking to her desk. She grabbed her backpack and headed out. The teacher said something to her but she was so wrapped up in what happened that she didn’t hear a word of it. Eyes were on her but she couldn’t care less.

               

The halls of Del Mon’s Hospital were blazing white. Beeping electronics and the sound of wheelchairs against the floor surrounded the place. Aria approached the front desk and asked the woman seating what room Emily Fromentine was in. This was the first time the she visited a hospital alone.

“Aren’t you suppose to be in school?” the lady asked. She looked tired and it affected how she related with visitors. She tapped her aquamarine nails on the table impatiently.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Aria said. The lady squinted her eyes so closely together, it seemed like black lines were drawn across her face. Suddenly, a nurse cut between them. “It’s alright, Therese. I’ll take her there.” She said with a smile as bright as the stars.

“Sure,” muttered Therese, who placed her attention on stirring her coffee effortlessly, resting her chin on her hand. The girl hustled her to come with her and Aria followed.

As soon as they were out of sight, Aria let out a breath of relief. “Close call,” the girl said, barely glancing at her. She had dark blue eyes that shone with amusement. She was wearing a blue uniform, just like the other nurses, and her caramel hair was neatly tied. Her presence made Aria less frantic.

“It really is,” replied Aria. They made their way to the fourth floor of the building. Each floor held different patients. They’re sorted according to where the illness occurred. The first floor was the lobby; the second had patients with lung deficiencies. The third had patients with heart-based sicknesses and the fourth dealt with the human mind.

“So,” the nurse started. “How old are you?” It was rare to witness these kinds of people.

“16,” Aria said. They walked past numerous doors and occupied rooms on foot since the nurse said that walking was good for the heart. Aria couldn’t say no to her.

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