The walls were painted gray; the paintings made the room pop. Each painting had various colors, but one stood out the most—the light blue slid across the sky, making way for the clouds that was blocking the way for the blue to continue sliding across. On the other side of the painting was a thunderstorm—a gloomy cloud marched forward, causing the blue sky to become less, and more gray and black clouds came in, shooing away what was left of the beautiful sunny day that is portrayed in the painting.
Another noise hits me—my legs spring up, and I am alive. The lights flicker above on the ceiling, and the smell of death hangs in the air—rotting corpses alike; many hairstylists came in and out of the door, prepping the few corpses for burial. A sheeted figure comes rolling out of what looks to be an operating table. The blanket slides off slowly, and two doctors examine the body once more.
“McKenna?” I whisper.
A doctor tuns, and steps aside to let me take a view.
What I view is disturbing. Her face is pale, and veins pop out from her skin, making her face seem like it was plucked from the inside and the outside was sewn back on. Her eyes were purple, and her pupils were no more than white dots. The other doctor adjacent to me picked up a pair of tongs, placed them on the eye socket, and dug deeply until the eye was completely removed. Her blond hair was pale as snow. She looked horrifying.
“She's dead?” I ask.
“Yes, I'm sorry for your loss—you are how old? 19? Do you have any family left over?” He asks.
“No, I do not.” I say.
“How about friends that can take you in?” The gray-haired doctor asks.
My mouth is agape. Colt came to mind. “Yes. I do.”
“Great, the tele' is over on the desk, feel free to give them a call,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two gold coins.
I grab them, and slowly walk over to the tele'.
The coins slide on through, and my fingers begin to tremble as I press down on the buttons.
“Hello?” I say. “Colt, it's not good news. What do you mean you already heard? That damn pig. Can you come and get me?” I ask through the tele'.
I tell him the address, and then hang up the tele'.
Colt was a friend, a lifelong friend. He was the type of friend that knew your secrets, and wouldn't dare tell a soul about them. He was there for me when my goldfish had died when I was ten, that was when I didn't fully understand what death really meant.
I hop into the truck as soon as he pulls into the parking lot of the morgue.
“Did you have fun looking at a dead body?” He asked with a smirk.
“What do you think?” I shoot back, my eyes averting to him with a sense of anger.
“OK, sorry, calm down.” He says.
“No, I'm sorry.” I say.
There is silence now.
“How about getting something to eat, yeah?” He asks, with an apologetic look in his eyes when he focuses on me.
“Sure, why don't we go to the Stool?” I ask.
He halts the truck, and looks at me with piercing eyes. “Why do you want to go there?”
“I just thought we try someplace new,” I say.
“Please tell me you're kidding,” he glances at me. “Alright, you're not kidding.”
