Headfirst for Halos

-3

"I hope you know that you're not alone in place." Lindsey reassured me, her hand was carefully placed above my elbow to guide me around the hospital. I looked up at her, she smiled once again. She revealed to me the Cancer ward (which just reeked of death), the Rehabilitation area, the Birthing centre (which made me feel extremely uncomfortable to be in), the emergency room, and once we reached the corridor where we started and she explained that the room I woke up in, is mine for sleeping.

"And this," she stood in front of two large double doors as they slid open for her, "is the dining and recreational area. Basically you come here to eat or when you're bored. Also you won't get lost because it's just two doors down from your room." She clarified and introduced me to the guards who kept watch of us.

"Well, around about now I finish my shift so I'll you tomorrow Frank. It was nice meeting you." She gave a toothy smile before abandoning me.

I stood near the entrance actually hoping she would come back, but she didn't. I was startled when the door opened and a man entered wearing a pale blue coat and carrying a bowl and spoon; another nurse. He wore similar things to Bob and had straight brown hair, a nose piercing and chocolate coloured eyes.

"Tay didn't want to eat in front of people again today, but she sends her thanks to you all" He said to some of the ladies that worked behind a counter serving food, almost like a cafeteria. When he noticed me observing them he smiled widely then departed the room.

I examined the room when I saw the boy from earlier on. He was hunched over a notebook on a table in the corner. I sauntered over and sat down next to him. He looked up from his notepad observed me for exactly twenty-four seconds before getting back into the book. He seemed to be drawing something which completely intrigued him.

His black hair flowed messily around his face and his exquisite hazel eyes fixated from the bottom to the top of his book. Throughout this whole awkward silence he peered up at me a number of times, I lost count after thirty-three.

Let me somehow break this awkward silence, I still thinking how to when he ripped the page out of his book, placed it face-down of the table and exited the room.

I watched the door until it was a full minute since he disappeared, then I lifted the paper. It revealed to be me, an exact replica of me in graphite. It was actually quite intriquitely drawn. He even drew the tattoo of a scorpion on my neck. It was actually quite adorable that he did this kind gesture, and I'm still glad that such kind human beings still exist. I smiled. For once in such a long time I actually smiled. I realized that I didn't even say thank you for this gift. I ran out of the recreational room and into the corridor where my room is found. The door overlooking mine was open; I peeked inside when I saw the same boy sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room.

The room itself was littered with drawings on the walls; the carpet and his bed. I stood in the doorway and he hasn't noticed me yet. Once he finally saw me via the mirror he became motionless, until turned and faced me.

"I'm sorry." I stated, he expressed a puzzled state then asked "What's there to be sorry for?" I hesitated then replied "I'm sorry that I didn't say thank you for the portrait you gave me earlier." his stern expression then curved into a grin. "Did you like it?" he questioned. I nodded widely and he smile grew. "Thank you for your appreciation." He whispered. I walked into the room and sat towards him while leaning against the foot of the bed. "And for the record," he looked up from his notebook once again, "those drawings are amazing." He glanced away then mumbled a quick thankyou and tried to hide his blush. "You're literally the first person to ever say that."

An 'Oh' escaped my mouth before I could stop myself.

The world needs something better than self-pitying people who can't get over things; the world needs this boy's art.

I gazed at the sketches on the wall. Some were overly dark, some were complicating lovely and some were hauntingly intrigued. Either way no matter how dark or terrifying they were all wonderful.

We sat in a cosy silence until one of the nurses came and explained that it was time for everyone to be in their rooms and sleep. She had small blonde buns on opposite sides of her head, the left side of her nose pierced, dressed in the identical pink outfit as Lindsey and her name badge read: Jenna.

She almost had to drag me out of the room when the boy asked, "Wait, what's your name?" she stopped guiding me then looked at me, "Frank." I said, "I'm Gerard." The woman finally decided to end our discussion by gently pulling me out the door and across the hall into my room. Once she had put me into my bed and left I progressed out of bed and looked out of the rectangular window. Gerard was already starring out the window, he smiled once he saw me and I did the same.

About fifty-seven minutes later, we were both fatigued from standing. I waved him farewell

I sat in my bed that night, contemplating.

Tell me where we go from here, from this hospital, from this life.

I've been staring at my ceiling for seven minutes and forty-eight seconds. My eyes burnt of dehydration, but I couldn't shelter them with my eyelids.

My mind was buried with memories of my childhood, when I had friends.

The word 'friend' seemed foreign to me.

I inspected the view from my room; the view itself was a just of a park just beyond the road. The bars on the other side of the window, they obviously did plan out the hospital quite well. I light sky I saw once earlier is now ashen and dark. The colour reminded me of Gerard's acrimonious black hair.

My frosty calloused fingers began to form fingerprints on the glass when I noticed my bandages on my wrists.

Do I dare to look?

They would slightly ache if I would strain or drag them across some services.

I unwrapped the right bandage, dried blood, scabs, faded and scars even stitches here at there.

I ran my fingers along my wrist feeling the uneven skin.

I stared at my other wrist. I promised Jamia I wouldn't but then again. So did she. And she broke that promise. I still wish that didn't happen. I wish I was there to stop her. Once again I was crying pathetically

I wish to reclaim my innocence. I wish quite a lot of things didn't happen.

Gerard, where do we go from here?