zygote // slenderlings

02 | some dude steals my chocolate pudding and bolts out of the window

"Oww..."

I mumble, coming to my senses. My lids peel open, one by one, brown irises darting like pinballs in their sockets. 

A stretch of blinding whiteness greets me at first. Then my vision refocuses as the nurse pulls the flashlight away from my eye.

"Good. You're alive." She says coolly, turning it off with a click.

I stare at her blankly. I was, for the most part, still out it.

"Where-"

"Monterrey County Hospital," she interrupts, pocketing her mini torch. She is, like all nurses, dressed in pristine white and wears her hair in a tight bun. "Intensive Care Unit. You were out cold for three days."

"Three days?" I bolt upright. Bad idea. My back protests with an audible crack.  "Ow!" 

Then I notice the cast that's holding my left arm hostage. 

"Three days," the nurse repeats, pushing me back into bed with two firm fingers. "Damn near a miracle, in fact. You came in here with almost no unbroken bones in your entire body. We all thought you were a goner for a hot moment. Then you had a seventy-two-hour shuteye and voila, wakes up perfectly healed."

She taps the gigantic cast on my left leg. "Guess we won't be needing this any longer."

I blink, taking in my bearings. The room I'm in is tiny and painted plaster-white, like all hospitals should be. Furniture here is utilitarian and limited. There's a cabinet in front of me and a nightstand to my right, but that's about it. On the wall, a window situates, falling perfectly in my blind spot. Just. Brilliant room layout. 

Well, at least the bed is comfortable enough, I heave a deep, weary sigh as I snuggle my one unbroken arm close under the comforter.

"I'll get Doctor Kline to remove your casts. Then you're good to go." Ms. Nurse says, putting down her clipboard. An awful lot of question marks are dotted onto the page, it seems.

"Wait, good to go?" I furrow my brows. "Am I being discharged? Already?"

"Since you've made a full recovery, we think our job here is done." The nurse replies,  dusting her hands on a sani-cloth. She seems reluctant to touch me, or be anywhere near me. "Also it's because you're not covered by insurance and the Grandsister refuses to pay a cent more for your treatment," she closes off quickly, balling the cloth up and tossing it into the wastebasket. "So there's that."

I swallow drily. I don't know the exact amount the Grandsister had to pay, but for a parentless kid living on government welfare like me, probably more than I'm worth. And the Orphanage isn't exactly generous. The Church is tight-pursed, and kids are made to work for extra innings on the regular - which I'm pretty sure is illegal. 

"Are we good? Any questions?" Ms. Nurse's words ring in my mind.

"Uhh..." I stutter,  scrambling my few remaining brain cells together. Something about jasmine and bergamot. Something yellow. A tousle of blonde hair. 

A mouthful of teeth.

Something in my head clicks, and I almost wish it didn't.

Oh god. 

Ursula.

"Where is she?" I burst out of my trance, voice so loud I'm practically yelling, "The girl that was with me, where-"

Click, the hatch on my door says, softly, sharply. The nurse is already gone, and my question lingers in the air, as heavy and distressing as an ax-bladed pendulum.