NOTHING TO LOSE • A Beetlejuice Fanfiction • ON HOLD • Previously Bug Beverage

7 • Chapter Seven, Time For A Wedding!

The food tray next to your bed was exactly the same as it had been two hours ago. The events of today had made you lose your appetite, but you knew that you had to eat something if you didn't want a stern talking-to from one of the nurses tomorrow.

You reluctantly grabbed the tray and placed it on your lap.

To say that it looked unappetizing would have been an understatement, but for the usual hospital standard, it didnt seem too bad. You shoveled the food into your mouth, barely chewing in between bites.

No matter how it looked, it somehow managed to always taste like mashed potatoes.

A few days into your hospitalization, you had come up with the conspiracy that they were actually just feeding you differently shaped and textured nutrition slop, but so far you had been unable to confirm your theory.

Munching on your food, you went over BJs words once again in your head.

Someone who can get me out of this situation. Someone who might even be able to make me mortal.

You set down the food and scooched down in bed, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders.

Someone who might be able to make me mortal.

You turned around, facing the door. Your mind was still racing, making sleep seem impossible, but eventually, your eyes closed on their own.

You fell asleep, BJs words still coursing through your brain.

×××

You woke up to the sun in your eyes, making you groan immediately. Pushing your body into a sitting position, you ran your hands over your face, before the events of last night came rushing back. It was almost overwhelming, like a tsunami of memories.

For a moment, you questioned their reality. A strange man in a striped suit, a demon who claimed you could free him, that you could make him mortal.

The room seemed to spin around you, and you closed your eyes.

Make me mortal again.

His words seemed to echo around you, crawling their way into your ears.

The door to your room opened. You removed your hands from your eyes and looked over, spotting your doctor in the doorway.

Of course. You surpressed a second groan. Check-up time.

Check-up was a daily ritual, where the assigned doctor dragged a bunch of people into your room, poked at you with metal and sometimes wooden instruments, then murmured something about the medication being ineffective and left.

After a few days, you had reverted to just silently enduring the process. It was basically the same every day, and it brought the same results every morning: Whatever he was doing wasn't working, and you were still dying.

It was about as boring as the rest of your stay in the hospital, but at least it was over quite quickly.

This morning, you appeared to be a little more out of it, resulting in a lot more questions than you would have liked there to be.

"Were there any new side effects to the new medicine that you noticed?"

"Nope." You shook your head, looking up at the doctor dor the first time since he had come in the door. His deciples quickly scribbled on their notepads.

"Did anything happen during the nighttime?"

You shook your head again, your eyes still firmly fixed on his. More noises of pen on paper.