An Angel in the Dark

Chapter 1

Phobia- an extreme or irrational fear or aversion to something.

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Darcy

            My fingers shook and the scent of hand sanitizer overpowered me as I entered the unnecessarily cold building, St. Mary’s hospital. If it were anything but a hospital, it would have seemed warm and inviting. The walls were painted a cheery orange, like the fall, and the fluorescent lighting illuminated the corny posters hanging on the walls. The whole facade was overdone, and was obviously meant to distract from the true meaning of the place. It reeked of sickness and death. The mask of sweet perfume didn’t fool me. It just made me more aware of what they were trying to hide. I took slow, even breaths, trying desperately to calm myself. It was a hospital, just a hospital. This was where people were nursed back to health, a safe and happy place. I took a step forward. But it was also where people died when the doctors failed. I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t go through with it. But if I didn’t complete my community service hours, I wouldn’t be able to graduate, and therefore wouldn’t be able to go to university. My fear was warring with my common sense, two opposites that refused to attract.

I was about to let my feet carry me out the wide doorway, contrary to my mind screaming “No!” I was about to throw away my entire future, for the sake of panic.

But I was stronger than that. I refused to let my phobia rule me. I took a cautious step forward, attempting to ignore the senseless fear pounding through my head like a migraine. But soon the pounding got heavier and more frequent, and it was too much to take. The world started spinning and all the colors rushed together. It was all I could do not to fall to my knees. A very thin young woman in a blue nurse’s uniform walked in, and she must have noticed something was wrong, because she rushed over to my side and gripped my elbow to keep me steady.

“Are you okay?” she looked into my eyes questioningly, her voice soft, smooth, and inviting.

I just barely nodded.

The nurse was beautiful, and I envied her milk white skin and soft features. She had full red lips and rosy cheeks. Her auburn hair framed her oval shaped face perfectly, highlighting her emerald green eyes. But under her green eyes were the wrinkles that signified either worry or lack of sleep, probably a little of both.

            “What’s your name, sweetheart?” The concern in her green eyes was apparent, and very motherly for someone so young. It was obvious why she became a nurse. Her kindness radiated through her inviting eyes and the warm tone of her voice. Just her presence was so comforting my intense fear dulled into a slight uneasiness.

            “Darcy,” the words just barely escaped my lips. “Darcy Miller.” Her grip on my elbow was still the only thing keeping me standing upright on my weak knees, and I was grateful for it.

            “Darcy Miller? You’re the new volunteer, right? It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Nurse Kinney, though you can call me Lydia.” Her cheerful demeanor and upbeat tone of voice almost fooled me, but I could still tell that she was exhausted and overworked. My heart ached for her. I could already tell she was a wonderful person, and she didn’t deserve that.

            “Do you want a minute to gather your strength before I show you to Melanie’s room?” She led me to a green cushioned chair on the other side of the room, and I gratefully sunk into it, gripping the arms of the chair with both of my hands.

            “Melanie? Who’s Melanie?” My voice returned to me with my confusion.

            “Didn’t you read the informational packet we sent to you in the mail?” She looked at me, a smile on her face. It wasn’t one of those tight- lipped grins that usually graced the faces of adults when you did something they disapproved of. This smile was open and inviting. “Never mind, then. Melanie is a13 year old girl in a coma. Your job is really simple. You just come in and speak to her for an hour once a week.”

            “Speak to her?” I asked, finally standing up on my own two feet. “So I just speak to her?” That didn’t seem too bad. I wouldn’t be handling sick people or anything that might cause me to have another panic attack. I just had to speak to her. I could just close my eyes and pretend she wasn’t in a coma. Yeah, that would be easy.

            “Yeah, that’s about it. You can read to her, tell her about your life, anything. It’s just the sound of your voice that helps these coma patients. So, are you ready to go?”

            “Yeah, I think I am,” my face lit with the first genuine smile since I arrived in the building.