Ophiuchus

Before

Daniel had never liked hospitals. They had always smelled like harsh chemicals and disinfectant. Everything was white, the walls, the floors, the nurse's scrubs and their cherub like, worn out faces. It was like it was trying too hard to look like heaven, when in reality being there felt like hell.

Every time Daniel had been to a hospital, it was because of something bad that had happened. The last time he was here, his grandfather was on his death bed two floors below, breathing his last. And the time before that, was one he never talked about, despite the fact that he wore a scar of it's reminder beneath his left eye.

When he was eight years old, Daniel learned a hard lesson about telling little white lies. He'd been kicking a football around in the house, something he'd been told not to do many times, when he'd accidentally kicked the ball into a shelf, and knocked over a rather expensive bottle of whiskey. He panicked and began picking up the glass, but by mistake he'd cut his hand on a shard. He quickly cleaned up the mess without alerting the maid and got rid of the remains of bottle.

Later that evening, at dinner, George announced the mess of broken glass and whiskey he'd found in the trash.

"No one is leaving this table until I find out who broke that bottle." Regina had excused herself from the situation to put Camille, who was still no more than a newborn, to sleep, leaving Matthew and Daniel with the wolf.

They sat for hours in bitter silence. Soon enough, Matthew began to cry, so George sent him upstairs to bed, leaving Daniel alone by himself. Daniel was afraid, he had a feeling his father knew that it was him and was waiting for him to admit it. He knew what would happen if he told him the truth- the same thing that happened to their mother at night when George thought that they were all asleep. Daniel was tired. It was nearing ten o'clock and he very much wanted to go to bed. His only way out was by telling a little white lie.

"It was Greta." Daniel finally as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time. "I saw her break it."

George didn't even blink. He called the maid into the dining room. Greta quickly scrambled to the table.

"Greta, did you happen to break a bottle of whiskey while cleaning this afternoon?" George asked turning to her. She shook her head.

"No, Herr Hosenfeld. I didn't break anything."

"Liar!" George roared throwing back his chair. He slapped her across the face, turning her cheek red. Daniel flinched in his seat.

"I know you broke it you thieving little whore!" George yelled grabbing her by a fistful of her hair. Greta began to cry. As George raised his hand to hit her again, Daniel leaped out of his seat, tears streaming from his eyes.

"It was me papa!" Daniel cried. "I lied, it was me who broke it!"

George had simply let go of the maid and told her to go. Greta whimpered and quickly scurried up to her quarters.

George preyed on him. He circled around the table, watching Daniel closely. He grabbed the back of his chair pulling him away from the table. He yanked the boy out of his chair and struck him across the face three times. Daniel's entire body radiated with pain, and snot ran out of his nose.

George disappeared out of room and returned with something in his hand. He struck Daniel again and felt something cut him across his cheek. A bit of blood dripped down his cheek.

He bled for quite a while and no bandage was going to help him. George and Regina brought him to the hospital where George had Daniel tell the doctor an elaborate lie about how he'd fallen in the tub and cut himself. The doctor didn't seem too convinced, but it was nearing eleven o'clock and she was ready to go home. So after he'd gotten his stitches, she'd sent him back home with the wolf.

Despite his father's ironic lesson about telling white lies, Daniel never told another lie ever since.

And ever since, he'd hated hospitals.