Richard Allen
The silence of the hospital as all that surrounded him. Visiting hours were over, he assumed, and the bustle of the all-night nurses had died down. Richard wanted to go home. More than anything, he wanted to get out of here. For the past two days he'd been in here, he refused to eat any of the food. Every morning, the nurses weighed him and every time it got a little bit lower. But Richard didn't care. In fact, he wanted to die just so he could get out of this stupid hospital.
His eyes burned from the fluorescent lights that had been glaring at him all day, but he was too weak to do much of anything including close his eyes. He just stared up at the white ceiling with his heart monitor to keep him company. He knew that even that company wasn't constant for he'd flat-lined about six times since he arrived here. His mother hadn't come to see him or even call him. Richard wasn't surprised at all.
Almost suddenly, his head began to burn and the most sickening feeling came to him. He knew exactly what was happening. Richard wanted to fight the vision, he really did, but he was too weak to even try to. Sooner than he wanted, his world faded to black and his eyes begun to burn.
There it was, his whole world. One, tiny little hospital room. He looked down at his hands and saw no skin, only yellowed bones. He ripped the covers from his legs and felt nothing. No rush of cold, no sudden shiver. His legs, too, were bone.
There was a sudden clatter, like metal hitting the floor and he looked up. Lauren, who stood hunched over his body, glared down at him.
"Any last words?" Like poison from her lips, she spoke.
"What are you doing? Why-why are you here." He mouth was still, but his voice seemed to occupy the entire space. He wasn't afraid. The knife held against his bony neck did not phase him.
"You ruined my family. You killed my brother and ruined Grant. You sickened him with your poisonous words. You were my unraveling."
"What are you talking about? I did nothing to you or your stupid family. I didn't ruin anybody." Again, the words seemed to come from his mind, not his lips.
"This will be the end of you Richard Allen. My hands will be stained with your wicked blood." She should've driven the knife into him, but a surge of strength overtook his bones. Slowly, his flesh started reappearing.
New skin covered his weak bones and muscles wrapped around them. He could move. He felt alive. His weakness had left him and his heart pumped like a drum of triumph in his chest. A type of solidity ran through him and he knew that when he grabbed the knife from her, it was won.
Something about him was different. Tougher skin, stronger bones. Like he had been healed of a sickness he'd previously suffered from. Released from all the pressure he'd been under. Then it all seemed to disappear into the air and he was left alone with the knife in his hand.
It was the strangest of any vision Richard had ever received. That was his future? Lauren was going to attempt to kill him and then suddenly he would be a strong, healthy warrior. It made no sense to him. With fear and shock still shaking him, Richard looked down at his hands. They were thin and bony, but covered in gaunt, pale skin.
Richard knew he was dying. There was no way around it, no way to try and avoid it. At least, that's what he thought until this most recent vision. Everything about it was so confusing. He didn't understand how Lauren would've even made it into the hospital with a knife.
