Death Has Wings

Hospitals Always Creep Me Out

I woke up in the hospital, slowly but surely regaining feeling in my arms and legs. I looked over to my right. Mother was crying hysterically and Father was comforting her, mumbling words into her hair. I tried to speak but my throat was extremely dry. The noises I made instead sounded like a dying baby.

Mother's head snapped towards me. She rushed up to my bedside with a struggling smile on her face and tears running down her cheeks. She held my hand tight, her palms sweaty. Father hurriedly left the room to get a nurse to check if I was okay.

"Clark, honey, you're okay. I thought I'd lost you. I don't want to lose you, not again." A new wave of tears rolled down her cheeks. I could feel her heart beating, hear it even. It was fluttering so fast that I thought it'd stop.

Father returned with a nurse and doctor in tow. The nurse and Father rushed over to Mother to try to comfort her but it wasn't working. Tears were still streaming down her face, making her make-up run even more. I had told her countless time before that she didn't need it yet she still wore it. Self-confidence I guess.

The doctor strode over to the side of me and took the clipboard off of the end of the bed on the way. He stood there for a few moments, checking the papers. I noticed a faint scent of alcohol on him. Disgusting stuff, alcohol.

The doctor looked down at me and smiled, showing slightly yellowing teeth.

"Clark, you seem to have recovered quite quickly, despite having quite a bad concussion." His voice was deep. "You should be able to go home in a few hours." He replaced the clipboard onto the end of the bed and briskly walked over to Mother. He and the nurse escorted her out of the room, leaving Father with me.

He walked over to my bedside and sat in the chair. We stared at each other in silence for what seemed like forever before he spoke.

"What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "You scared your mum half to death."

"I don't know what happened, so how can I answer your question?" I really couldn't be bothered to talk to him but I had to.

"What...are you fucking kidding me? You fell off a fucking swing for Christ's sake! How the fuck can you get a concussion from that, let alone get sent to the hospital?" His voice had begun to raise in volume. I felt stupid. I'd fallen off of a swing. How goddamn-

I thought back to what had happened. The girl. She had been there when I fell. My mind snapped back to the present, my eyes falling onto Father. He was muttering things to himself, his foot tapping furiously against the floor.

I absolutely hated that. It was an extremely annoying thing for anyone to do, let alone Father. I turned my head away from him and sighed.

The room seemed to grow colder the longer I stared at the wall. I felt warm breath on the back of my neck and snapped my head around, only to be greeted by my real father. His dead eyes peered into mine, a faint smile on his pale lips.

I felt my heart race as I relived the moments once more.

He left when I was nine. Mother said that he left because of her. I know the truth. It was me. I drove him away. Me. Not her. I summoned something too strong for me to handle. It killed my sister. My sweet, innocent sister. Lilith. I couldn't control it. It dragged her under. Made her drown. He found her. He found her floating in the water.

I closed my eyes tight and tried to control my breathing. When I opened my eyes, he was gone. In his place was a very confused Father, his brow furrowed.

The door opened suddenly, making both of us look towards it. Mother came in holding a worn teddybear close to her chest. She swapped places with Father and smiled at me.

"Do you remember this?" She sounded like she would burst out crying any second. I shook my head slowly. She sighed and looked down at the teddybear. "This was Lilith's only teddy." Her voice cracked.

Tears began to form as she placed the teddybear onto my lap, stroking its head a few times before sitting back into the chair. I felt a multitude of emotions swell within me. Grief, anger...guilt. I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

A heavy silence hung in the room. It felt like a solid wall yet as fragile as glass. Father left the room like he was in a hurry. Me and Mother just sat there, reminiscing about Lilith; her smile, her laugh, how she would always get her own way. We were so deep in memories that we didn't notice the doctor come in.

He cleared his throat. "If you'd like to go home, you can. We've reviewed your stats and we've concluded that you're stable enough to leave."

And so I did.

*

Orchids. They were Grandma Mae's favourite flowers. She'd get them for every occasion; birthdays, funerals, weddings. For her, orchids represented her soul.

She once told me that everyone has a flower that represented their souls. One day, she told me that my flower was a rose. Being the seven-year-old boy that I was, I thought it was girly nonsense.

The day was fresh in my mind. Mother dropping me off, Grandma Mae taking me inside and having hour-long conversations about magical things.

I miss those days.

My mind wandered to a more sinister day. One when the demons got restless.