It's surprising what human beings can accomplish when death is staring them right in the face. When things began plummeting, few knew how to react. Most were confused, seeking guidance from the very foundations and institutions that, once meant to h...
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"Earth to Adelaide," I hear as Remy frantically waves her hand in front of my face. My best friend examining me as if I'm a test subject is what finally snaps me out of my thoughts.
"What's going on with you?" she asks, furrowing her brows. "Also, why were you so late. Did something happen?"
"Sort of," I reply. "I can't explain it but-"
"Adelaide, Remy."
I turn my head to face the Director who walks towards the two of us, looming over our heads with his impressive height. His face continues to maintain its iconic stoic expression, each feature only showing the bare minimum of human emotion. The Director's steps are methodical and his demeanor, robotic.
"We have a special case for the two of you to handle. If you would both follow me," he orders, gesturing to the long hallway I had just come from. I stare incredulously at their moving backs for a couple of steps unable to follow, before hurrying to Remy's side.
My breath slightly hitches as we stop in front of the room marked with the number twelve.
Remy shoots me a quick look, which screams 'wtf is up with you.' I feel the nervous sensation in my gut expand merely at the thought of entering that room again.
I, too, would like to know what is going on, Remy.
The Director leisurely opens the door and flips on the lights. I linger in the hallway a moment longer before calming my racing heart and walking into the room I had been in only moments ago.
A gasp escapes Remy's lips as she takes in the scene in front of her for the first time. Under the fluorescent lights, the man's still body looks even more contorted and shattered.
My eyes take in his tall frame and follow the tubes sticking out of his skin in an attempt to identify their purpose. Tears brim my waterline as a wave of emotions clogs in my throat.
I think I am going to be sick.
"This poor lad was brought in earlier today and has sustained major injuries as you can see," informs the Director. "We cannot seem to figure out why he is not healing normally. He is definitely a young wolf who, in any other circumstance, would be making more progress than this, so this is bizarre."
He examines the chart at the foot of the guy's bed. As he thumbs through the pages, he looks up at Remy and I from the frame of his glasses with a serious expression.
"We definitely need around the clock monitoring and someone to constantly keep his wounds clean, since we do not have the advanced medical equipment of better facilities. That's where you two come in when the real healers are busy with other patients," he states in a condescending tone.
The expression on Remy's face tells me she's about to rip him a new one and so I hastily grab her arm before she can point a finger in the Director's face.
