Adapted

Charlie meet your demons

I didn't realise I didn't actually have any intention to go and meet this girl until I got the opportunity to do it.

Now there was no getting out of it, Detective Martins had led me through the double doors and past a line-up of intensive care patients to a door at the end of the corridor. We paused outside but I couldn't look up to see why, I was too busy pissing myself. Detective Martins was putting us both on the line, he was putting his career on the line.

But why? He told me it was because he really wants to help this girl but that's a bit obvious. It's his job. He told me her fast recovery had freaked out both himself and the doctors but surely that's no reason to break the rules? It was a bit hard to believe he was risking all of this because some angsty teenage girl refused to talk to him. He mustn't have kids or else he'd be used to it. In fact he must've never been around girls. I mean, I have zero experience with girls but even I know what they can be like.

I was about to lose my nerve, my feet were stuck to the floor. I wanted to run but the detective flew the door open and pushed me inside before I had the nerve to.

Ten feet away from me was the corpse from my tree house. Except she wasn't a corpse. I wasn't even sure she was the same girl. But it had to be because, well, that's why I'm here.

Have you ever been afraid to get on a roller coaster? You over-anticipate it, have a panic attack over it, grapple between getting on and running away but you end up finally doing it and it ends up as either the best experience of your life or you've built it up too much and it's a huge disappointment?

This was not one of those times. I wanted it to be, but it wasn't. If anything my fears were vindicated. Every last hair on my body was standing to attention like a soldier called by his commanding officer.

I was stuck staring at the back of her black hair with my mind agonising over a thousand thoughts, none of them helpful. Mainly about how different she looks under all the dirt and blood. All of my thoughts were focused on her appearance and how... human it was, and it suddenly occurred to me that no one had really been talking about her like she was real. She wasn't a person to us, she was an object or a scary story and because of that being in her presence was like standing in a graveyard.

Detective Martins shoulders were squared up, swallowing his neck but I couldn't blame him for being tense. I was too, and it was pinning me to the wall. I moved my eyes back to the dead girl and found her scrutinising me.

Her golden gaze had caught me again and I couldn't move, couldn't look away even out of politeness. She didn't bother looking away either, she kept me locked there with her. Unblinking. Her eyes almost glowing.

Does she recognise me? Right now, she was the only one in the room who didn't look suspicious of anyone. She looked... knowing. A bit apprehensive. She wasn't suspicious she was analytical.

And a bit playful.

She stood there, her face faintly scratched up, purple discolouring under eyes like she hadn't slept in years. Her skin was no longer a pale grey, instead it was olive toned. She looked skinny and buried under sky blue hospital jammies.

But she was standing completely unbothered, glancing between the two of us as if we were the crazy ones.

"I take it you're not supposed to be in here? Hm?" Panic turned the tips of my ears pink. Would she report us? How does she know we're not supposed to be here? As concerned as I was I couldn't stop staring at her, I couldn't believe she was the same person! Her face had faint, almost entirely healed, scratches. She was standing up and walking around like- well- like I was. Her voice wasn't shaky and traumatised or coarse from pain it was strong. "The doctors said I'm not supposed to have visitors right now."