Into the fire

Oh, boy...

'Come on Cally,' Said Hannah, opening the car door and gesturing for me to get out, 'Are you ready?'

I slowly shake my head, 'not really...'

'Come on,' She whispers, 'for me? Please?'

I reluctantly nod my head and slowly limp towards the doorway of the hospital. My hands start to shake and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from crying.

'What am I going to say to him, Hannah?' I mutter, 'how can I tell him?'

She looks across at me with a look that plainly says, 'Just tell him.'

We get to the reception desk. Hannah is talking to the lady at the desk, organising mine and my brother's appointments.

I get told to go and sit down so I walk over to the chairs and find a vacant seat. I'm sitting next to a small old lady who is reading a book, it looks old, but well loved. Little women it says on the cover. I try to get a glance of the page she's on but she gets called up. Edna, her name is Edna.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and stare at my screensaver for a while, it is an old picture of my mum, brother and me at our house. I feel a tear start to fall down my face and quickly wipe it away.

I feel a nudge, 'This way Cally,' whispers Hannah, 'your room is down here, next to your brother's, you don't have to talk to him until tomorrow. Unfortunately we couldn't get you a private room so you are sharing with someone.'

I shrug, it doesn't matter really. I shouldn't be here long anyway.

*****

I sit on my bed, looking straight forward at the baby blue curtains, blocking anyone from seeing me. I shift around the bed for a while and then stand, trying to put my weight equally on both legs, that completely fails, and I end up wincing in pain and retreating back to the bed. I end up just opening my phone, swiping to the camera and looking at my reflection.

My recently washed hair is tied up in a messy bun. It isn't purposely messy, it is because my hair is now long in some places and short in others so it looks like a curly, upside down fire. I twirl the gingery red mess that sits atop my head around my finger, remembering when it was long, luxurious, straight and, well, completely there.

My eyes slide down to my face, seeing my once flawless, freckly, smooth skin, that had now turned into a mess, I have a 3 inch scar on my cheek and the rest of my face is covered in cuts and burns. The only thing that hasn't really changed are my eyes, I have Heterochromia so one of my eyes is blue and the other green. My arms and legs all have various types of burns and cuts on them, that are yet to be assessed and I am wearing a blue and white gown that drapes over me, and is at least 4 sizes too big.

I turn off my phone and sit on the bed, waiting for the nurse to come in and do whatever she has to.

I hear the door creak open and I limp over to sneak a look out of my curtains, hopefully I will see the nurse, I am tired of waiting. Actually, I'm tired in general.

But instead of seeing a nurse, I see a boy, walking in.
A boy around my age.
A boy I don't recognise.
And since I am just about the most socially awkward person ever,
I can tell,
I am not going to like this.