The Skylar Experiment : Dead Ending (second draft)

Chapter Fifty-Three - Yucky Food

RILEY

I SNOOZED THROUGH the entire night, knocked out by a strong, nauseous medication. It was so bad that I barely registered waking up for breakfast. Delphine rolled in a tray with two slices of bread, butter and jam, milk and a banana. Not the greatest mix, but I didn't complain. When I opened my eyes groggily to the sound of her voice, I saw Luc dozed off in a chair, head thrown back with his knees spread out. As soon as the curtain fabric ruffled, he woke up and scratched his neck. 

"Morning, kids," Delphine greeted and looked at me. "How are we feeling today?" 

I slightly groaned, surprising myself. I wouldn't groan at a nurse that cared for me, but the sound rumbled from my throat and all I could think of was to sleep more. The anesthetic must have been processed through my body completely according to Heather, but those pain relievers created a murky fog around me, blissful if it weren't for the nausea. Now, I was supposed to eat?

Luc bore a grin. "She's not a morning person."

"I can see that," she laughed. The tray slid in front of me, and I winced. "Riley, you're going to have to try and eat the food, okay? I know it's hard with the drugs, but it's important."

"Maybe it would help if it was a little more appetizing," Luc piped in, staring at the plate like he was having a mild stroke.

"Hey, I don't control the food service." Delphine raised her hands above her shoulders. "I only deliver, and when she's done, I will change her bandage and show her how to do it." She smiled my way. "Sounds like a plan? I'll have to give you another dose of meds soon."

I nodded reluctantly and picked at the breakfast while my vitals were recorded. Small fever.

She left us to deliver food to her other patients, and she closed the curtain on us. Slowly, I started downing the toast, swallowing but it tasted bland. I asked Luc why he wasn't in school, and he said something about not wanting to go. Conveniently, I was too busy chewing to admit that I felt glad about not being alone. This place was horrible. It freaked me out to be surrounded by sickness. I was exposed and vulnerable, stripped of comfort. 

Later, Delphine returned and happily noted that I consumed all of my portion. She came to my side and began to change the bandage, carefully pulling at the borders without tugging the skin. I watched her gloved hands reveal a fleshy, deep crater in my lower abdomen when she peeled back the gauze. My stomach lurched, ready to hurl its contents. 

"I know, I know," she murmured, as if to soothe me. "Just follow what I do if you want to know how to change it yourself. Well, not the cleaning, but the rebandaging part."

I forced my eyes to follow her actions. She deftly used a soaked cloth and special tweezers to disinfect the wound, then patched it up. Luc sat on the opposite side of the gurney, tapping a finger on his denim-clad leg. My memories stopped there, because the nurse shot me with morphine, and I zoned out again just as another wave of nausea dragged me under. 

❃ ❃ ❃

Pain. Burning, choking pain. 

Luc yelling for help. 

Blood everywhere. 

Weak and numb. 

Blackness.