Maria baby

Clare

Hospitals have never been the best place to visit, not just me for me but everyone else in general. The sooner you walk out of here the better.

Something about the air carrying that chemical essence of phenyl we commonly recognize as hospital smell, the white spotless walls, and greenish- shade curtains spelled rest in peace.

I’ve come here more in my life than I have ever visited my own home, not that big place could be called home anymore but still.

The emotionless robots in white walk around the place, stethoscope around their neck, or files and trays in hand.

One would think I would get used to the place of the dead after being here every now and then.

And not to forget the dead person I have become but still, nothing can change my opinion for this place.

But ignoring my thoughts I took a deep breath and walked my way straight to the person I came here to visit.

Keeping myself as stable as possible, ignoring the walls closing in on me, like they were moving, about to squish and kill, me in between them.

I should have felt panic at that moment, anxiety too but I didn’t feel a thing.

I might have been- I should have been scared of those closing white walls on me but nothing.

I didn’t feel it, neither did I care. It was like a layer of numbness was wrapped around me like a second skin and it didn’t interest me to even try to remove it, I wasn’t scared of death, I didn’t care anymore for the fear, for life but I had to live, live to know why and who and for what.

My family was dead, they couldn’t feel anymore.

Dead people aren’t supposed to feel right?

Then why should I? I’ll stay the walking dead that I am then.

Turning the knob, I opened the door of the private room.

Walking in I passed through the curtains to see a girl around 17 years laying with her eyes open, staring at the moving fan with silence outside and brewing storms inside.

Her blonde hair was sprawled over the pillow with blue eyes locked at the fan. her cheeks had the blackish-blue hue and her hands they were red just like someone beaten badly.

It had just been a week since that incident, her memories of that night must still haunt her, her wounds still hurt her, so much pain at such a young age, I should have felt sympathy, but I didn’t.

“Maria” I whispered softly to catch her attention, her eyes moved to mine, and a sense of recognition passed in them.

I couldn’t give her sympathy but I could give her support.

Maybe comfort and warmth, understanding, and……..justice too.

When I spoke her name again there was no hint of coldness, she had been through enough she didn’t need this, she didn’t deserve this. Any of this so I gave her my most, I gave her my warmth.

“Maria, baby” I whispered again wiping some of her tears that escaped.

“I want him dead, clare” She hiccupped with need in her eyes.

“I know you bought him to the streets but – but I want him dead” She cried.

“Shhhhhhh baby,” I said stroking her hair.

“Please clare” She cried again, she needed this I realized, she deserved this.

“you want him dead, you’ll get him dead, maria” I stated my eyes a warm stone.

“Clare” She whispered my name starting to panicking holding her down I tried to calm her just like I was being calmed ones.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay, just go to sleep yeah?, breath-breath-breath maria and sleep” I cooed

“Just sleep” After a few minutes when she was calm and the heavy dozes of her medicine had kicked in she fell asleep.

Taking in her broken state one last time I walked out of her room and to the doctor’s office who looked after her.

Without knocking I slowly opened the door and walked in dr. Brian. The in-charge looking after Maria looked up at me and stood abruptly.

“Ma’am,” He said waving towards his guest chairs and continued “please have a seat”

Ignoring his gesture and the big surprised and flustered expression I got to the point and asked “how is she?”

“She is getting better, it will take some time about a week and a half more but she will be fine physically but mentally……..” He trailed off looking down then continued

“What she went through, the rape-crime, it was brutal and she’ll need psychiatric help, I suggest you consult a psychiatrist for her, she needs that” He stuttered saying rape as if the word burned his tongue as if he couldn’t imagine what she was going through.

“Assign the best psychiatrist for her” I ordered my voice colder, harsher, bolder. he nodded.

Turning around I walked out of those white walls and drove off back to the office after attending a few calls.

‘she was going to be okay, and she wanted him dead’

That was all I needed to know.