Haunted Rayne

4 | Minor Victories

Rayne stirred to wake nearly thirty minutes after fainting in the Dormitory hallway. When she opened her eyes, the lights were too bright, and her throat was burning.

"Look who's finally coming around." A young woman with tanned skin and caramel hair offered an unsympathetic smile. There was an iridescent pearl necklace looped around her neck, and she had dangling earrings to match. Beneath the open lab coat, Rayne could tell the woman was wearing a designer belt around a black business dress. The woman placed a hand on the edge of her bed. "Do you know where you are?"

"The infirmary?" she guessed, looking at the man in the corner.

It was her onsite psychiatrist, Doctor Henry MacGowan. Memory of her campus tour was still foggy, but he didn't seem offended when she asked him to reintroduce himself. "The students here like to call me 'Red'," he said, and the longer she stared at him, the more Rayne understood why. Tall, with a slight belly protruding over his belt, he wore glasses with scarlet rims to match his red tie, and the fluff of his ginger eyebrows and receding hairline was beginning to gray. In a three-piece corduroy suit, Red stood behind the woman and watched as she pressed the back of her hand to Rayne's forehead.

The physician sat on a wheel-about stool beside her. "Rayne, I'm Doctor Audrey Campbell. I've been watching over you for the past half-hour. Would you like to tell me how you're feeling?"

"Like I don't belong," Rayne confessed, observing all the certificates, diplomas, and awards adorning the beige damask wallpaper. All the pharmaceutical cabinets were black with polished gold handles, and the white sheets blanketing Rayne's medical bed were made of silk. "This place is too much. Is the whole staff loaded with M.D.s or just you guys?"

"Sense of humor still intact." Red grinned. "You had quite the fall upstairs, young lady. So I'm sure the doctor wants to know how you're feeling physically. You and I can discuss how well you're adjusting later."

"Honestly, I just want some sleep."

She tried to stand, but the moment her toes swept the floor, she lost her balance. Red caught one arm, and the doctor gripped the other. As if they feared they might break her, they sat her on the bed as slowly as possible. They seemed to notice the bruises caking her forearms at the same time. Rayne had to smack the psychiatrist's hand after he tugged at the neckline of her shirt, revealing a green blemish the size of a baby's foot on her collarbone.

"What is that from?" Doctor Campbell asked, exchanging a look with the psychiatrist.

"It's nothing," Rayne groaned, fixing her collar. "We hit a dog on the way over. Impact was harsh, and the seatbelt got me good."

"I see," said Red, although it didn't appear he believed her. "Rayne, Doctor Campbell is going to examine you now, if that's alright. Do you have any objections?"

"No, do what you've got to do." Rayne lifted her arm so the woman could wrap a band around her bicep. After monitoring her blood pressure, Doctor Campbell lifted Rayne's shirt and placed a stethoscope on her back. The frigid contact of metal on skin was shocking, but it was not why Rayne shivered. In her mind's eye, she saw two little girls playing on a metal swing set. Rayne whispered, "Hey, Doc. Do you have a sister?"

"No talking," she chastised.

Rayne mumbled, "Just trying to make conversation."

"The longer you talk, the longer we're here. Now, deep breath."

Rayne inhaled.

And exhaled.

"Good, now another . . . . . 'Atta girl." The doctor stood and wrapped the scope around her neck, an accessory that seemed to compliment the riches of her attire. "And yes, I do have a sister. Why do you ask?"