Color

eight

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Three hours in the emergency room. I was transferred shortly after I arrived back to the doctors office.

I had asked the medical team to phone my parents. I wasn't in any condition to be chatting it up with my mother. She must have been so worried.

The pain deteriorated with time. Now I am content. Well, with my health. But my phone is well over half dead, and I'm stuck in a hospital bed.

My parents cannot come. They had failed to tell me my mother had been vomiting all day, her symptoms worsening. The nurse told me they most likely didn't want me to worry, so they told a little white lie.

I understand. But still, I wish I was informed of my mothers worsening condition. I text my father, asking him wether or not she had been taken to a doctor.

I don't get a response right away, and I hope the reason is for medical care, and assistance for their absence.

"Good news, Willow." My favorite nurse smiles at me. My finger that is pinched by a device that monitors my oxygen level twitches. I smile at her.

"Really?" I grin. "Fantastic! How soon?" I cannot contain my excitement. I can't wait to go back to that garden.

"As soon as you sign the papers." She grins. They are right here. "Are you ready?" I nod.

I sign the discharge papers, and hand back Betty her pen. I realize I have not a clue as to where my clothes are.

"Ma'am?" She turns around. She holds the curtain tightly around her fingers. I blush, "Do you know where my clothing has gone?"

"Yes!" She laughs. "I will be back with those, love. Just wait, I will also unwire you."

I laugh too, "Thank you." I smile at her.

She nods at me, and exits the room. I sigh. So long for no progress. It was a waste. I sigh again. Mother would not want me thinking so poorly! Shame on me.

Savoring my battery power, my thoughts are filled with the empty garden I visited. The beautiful light pink peonies- my favorite looked so vibrant in the bright sunlight.

I know it is wrong, but maybe I will pick s flower to take home with me. Just one.

I wonder who tends to the garden. It was so empty. No gardeners, no students. Empty.

I understand slightly, it was mid day, and many students are in class at that time.

I wish I could have met another student today. I want to explore.

I tell myself I won't be kept up in the hotel room tomorrow. I will go out and make a friend.

A knock comes from the wooden door. "Come in." I tell the nurse. I hope it's her again.

"It's me!" One of the other male nurses comes in. I sigh for the thousandth time.

"Tired?" He asks me as he unwires me, and smiles.

"Yes, I am." I smile too.

"Now I have specific instructions to get your clothes for you," He chuckles.

"Yes. That would be helpful." I laugh.

△ △ △ △ △ △

I know I should be in my bed resting, but after taking my parents car back to the hotel, I had drove past the garden.

I had completely forgotten about the car. My parents left the keys to it in my room. They knew I would be needing it. They did not once mention it to me.

It's quiet here. I had left my favorite book in the car, and I brought it to the tree surrounded garden that has captured my thoughts since my last visit.

I read it, and I think of my favorite lines. The classic, love story, and the transition of hatred to admiration.

I'm entranced, obvious to my surroundings, but I can't ignore the soft tune being sung in the distance.

Who is that? What a lovely voice. I determine the sound belongs to a male. It's deep, and he plays a song of keeping a girl warm, driving around.

Now, instead of being captivated by my book, I'm hooked on this mystery voice.

He hits a particular note, and I gasp. Oh! How lovely the sound.

Now more voices come in. How beautiful! This campus must have a choir! I can't wait to see all of the clubs, and activities!

The men stops singing, and I hear rustling! Oh please don't identify me!

The stone bench is cold in the night time.

I look at my phone- that is now at twenty five percent. It's 9:30 p.m. How has the time passed?

I need to get home, I decide. It's far too late, and I hope to god the man doesn't notice me.

I sneak away. I'm slick, and I get to my car in record time, tip toeing around the grass, avoiding the path way.

△ △ △ △ △ △

Every day now I have spent in the rose garden. It's been 3 days. I went downtown, and hit gold! I found an old bookstore. BOOKSELLER, in big letters above the vintage building.

I bring them to the garden, and switch off between admiring the flowers, and the words on the page of my latest obsession. I've gone through three novels now, and I'm only too familiar with the frail, not so friendly at first clerk at the book store.

I take a break from the book to admire the peonies.

I feel the sharpest pain. I cry out, and clutch my shoulder with my hand.

It's intense, and worse than ever before.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" A voice from behind me says. He sounds strong.

He begins to say something, but I pay no mind, as I turn around and see him on his knees. Too soon I am doing the same.

I look into green eyes. I gasp, and I whimper. "Ah!"

He too clutches his arm- the same side. and we both fall to the ground in pain.

Is it him?

My thoughts are confirmed when the crescent moon, and the Jupiter outline on my rib cage sting.

It's him.