The house no one Knows about

EIGHTEEN

'Dean! Dean!'

A faint, raspy voice struggles to speak.

"I don't know, I'll surprise you"

That is what she meant. Bambi who has never said my name before has pronounced the four-lettered structure because she is dying.

'Dean!'

I rush to her and pick her up before she can speak again. My heart jumps a bit, her eyes are half open and half closed. I start o walk towards the house; taking large steps because I'm panicking.

'Dean? You know I almost forgot your name'

I don't answer, I keep walking until we arrive at the house and I drop her on the couch.

'Dean, what's wrong?'

She seems to have fallen in love with saying my name.

'Tell me what to do'

She begins to shiver even more.

'T-Take m-m-m-me t-to th-the h-hospital'

'They'll find out that you don't exist'

'Th-then l-l-l-lie and d-don't p-p-panic'

'So I should just casually drive you to the hospital like you have the flu?'

She nods.

'I-If they w-w-want t-to know m-my n-n-n-name, tell them I-I'm C-C-Candice R-Rhodes'

I lift her up and drop her in the back seat. It's almost impossible to drive without being tempted to slam my foot down on the gas pedal. Even if I go over sixty she would groan and tell me to slow down. I think she went into a coma a few minutes ago, which would have made it easier for me to drive faster and that way she wouldn't die but no matter how close she is to death, I can't bring myself to go over sixty.

Her face looks so pale which is quite distorting for her skin tone. Her fingers fall off the seat and dangle at the edge; her nails which are painted blue have specks of snow on them. Her lips are slightly parted and chapped. I stop the car to check if she's breathing.

She is.

I keep on driving until we stop at the hospital. I take her out and ease her semi-lifeless body into a wheelchair. Without her clearly spoken instruction, I can fall into hysteria easily but somehow keeping my cool is effortless as I stride through the corridors and eventually the reception.

Everything else happens really fast, the nurses cart Bambi off to a room and when they ask for her details my replies are:

'Candice Rhodes, fifteen years old, phone number and house address unknown, her parents' names are Victoria and Johnson Rhodes and her parents' phone numbers are unknown'

'How is it that you brought her here but you don't know anything about her?' the receptionist asks me.

'I know her name and her parents' names'

'How does that help?'

'I just live in the same vicinity'

'What's your name?'

'Chris Henderson'

She eventually leaves me alone and I follow some doctors to a room where Bambi is lying on a bed in comatose state and hooked up to a number of things I can't identify. The doctors tell me that she is on an IV drip because she is dehydrated and she should be in a coma for some days.

'But if she's in a coma for over six days, there's an issue' they add.

I nod; the whole time keeping my gaze on Bambi.