People say that if you kill someone you feel adrenaline and remorse. I didn't feel that. I just learned that I wouldn't hesitate to do it again. That's what scared me the most. I looked down from the window in James hospital room; he just got the bullet removed from his chest and was in good shape. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling of worry for him. I look down at my arms and see how bloody they are. Not from James blood but from my own. I sneak out of the room, ignoring the stares from people I walk by. I walk around aimlessly for about ten minutes before I give up.
"Excuse me ma'am, where's the bathroom?" The woman looks up at me from behind the desk. She was a chubby older lady, wearing a cheesy nurse jacket and pants. Her brown hair had streaks of gray and was messily hugging the chubby features of her face.
"You need to be entered in the hospital, not the bathroom sweetie."
"No ma'am I need to find the bathroom."
"Go straight down the hall then take a left, honey." She says reluctantly.
"Thank you." I say as I walk away.
I slowly walk down the hallway and walk into the women's bathroom. I look at my reflection and immediately see why the desk lady said I needed to be enrolled into the hospital. I regret looking in the mirror, apparently with adrenaline I didn't feel getting clawed by the vampires claws.
I had claw marks that had random twists and turns like grape vines. My face had 3 scratches all coming from the bottom of the right side of my nose and ending at my ear. I sigh while rinsing off the rest of the dried blood. I make sure there is no leftover blood on me before I slowly make my way to the bathroom door. The stall closest to the door slams open and something charges at me. I scream for help but no one can hear me. I am pinned against the counter. I feel behind me and get the soap bottle; I squirt soap into the beast's eyes. It screeches and gives me enough time to push it away. I throw open the door and grab a chair that visitors sit in and prop it against the door, barricading the monster in the women's bathroom.
I feel the thick liquid of blood coating my leg and torso, before I feel the sting from the new wounds. I run to James room; ignoring the stares from the strangers I pass. I get to James door and slam it close and then lock it behind me. He was still unconscious, just like he was when I left the room. I look him up and down to make sure nothing had got to him while I was in the bathroom. Once I determine he was fine I walk to the cabinets on the opposite wall.
I find a few rolls of gauze, to my luck. I take out a roll, and lift up my shirt to find a huge, deep gash going all the way across my stomach. I take some scissors that I found on the stand beside James bed and cut off a strip of gauze. I look back over to the counter and see a hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall. I sigh as I stand up; I need to clean the wound, and I sure as hell wasn't going back in the bathroom.
Now just remember what it's like to get hand sanitizer in a paper cut, now amplify that 10000 times more. I'm pretty sure it sounded like someone was killing me. After about 10 minutes of smothering my gash in hand sanitizer, I sat back down in the chair beside James hospital bed. I take the piece of gauze that I already cut and wrapped it as tightly around the gash on my torso as I could. I stand up and walk back over to the hand sanitizer and lift up the right pant leg of my sweatpants in the middle of my thigh is an even deeper gash.
"Great" I whisper.
My shaking hand reaches up and gets more hand sanitizer, I take the puddle of hand sanitizer in my hand and drop it in the gash. I grit my teeth and stifle the loudest scream. I rub it in and add more as tears gather in my eyes. I decide that it's as clean as it gets. I limp back to the chair and sit down, I cut one more piece of gauze and wrap it tightly around the gash. Luckily those seemed to be the only new wounds I have. I sit in the chair next to James, I grab his hand and stare at the perfect features of his face hoping he can feel me here and wake up. I feel his hand twitch in mine and then his eyes slowly start opening.
"Oww" he whines under his breath, "my head is dying."
"So is mine." I say realizing the heart beat in my head.
He looks up at me and laughs. "At least you look less rough around the edges." He reaches up the IVs in his arms straining as he touches the scratches on my face. I wince from the pain when he touches them. He slowly puts his hand back down, without breaking eye contact with me.
"So how bad is it?" he asks
"Depends, how fast can you run out of here?" I answer.
He laughs, and then ends it in a coughing fit.
"The doctor said we can leave whenever you feel good enough to leave." I add.
James sits up, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. he begins plucking out the IVs one by one until none remain. I walk over to him and help him stand up. Together we walk over to the end of the bed, where his nicely folded clothes are. I turn around as he slips on his pants, then I help him out of the hospital gown and into his shirt. He sits down on the bed slowly and I put on his socks and shoes.
"We should get away for a day." He says
"What do you mean?" I say not understanding.
"Just follow me." He says as he stands up.
I follow him out of the hospital and to my car that is exactly where I left it.
He opens the door for me and then slides across the hood of the car, causing me to laugh. I regret laughing because I feel the gash in my stomach tear more.
"YOU BETTER NOT SCARATCH MY BABY." I yell, rubbing the dashboard.
"Don't worry I'm fine." He says with a sly smile.
I roll my eyes but manage a smile.
When the car starts I close my eyes trying to forget all the events of today.
