The mirror had fogged over, so I wiped with the palm of my hand. I hadn't seen my reflection up close since the morning of the accident. My face was very pale, and there were dark circles beneath my eyes. I was thinner, too. My short, dark brown hair stuck up in random places all over my head. I pushed my bangs out of my eyes, then grabbed another towel and ruffled it over my hair. When I stopped, I looked like Einstein. I giggled once. And then, again. Soon, I couldn't stop. I figured the laughing was that of the hysterical kind, signaling the beginning of a mental breakdown.
Just then, something flashed in the mirror. I froze, mouth hanging halfway open. Gingerly, I wiped at the mirror, again, with the towel, clearing the returning fog. At once, I jerked back with a yelp.
Someone was staring back at me. But it wasn't me.
At the moment, there was a knock on the door. I whirled, my hand jumping to cover my mouth, and almost fell backwards into the bathtub.
"Thema, it's me. Hurry up, there's a nurse coming."
I flicked my eyes back to the mirror. The only face I saw was mine. Heart pounding, I opened the door. Wes handed me a crisp new nightgown, which I slipped quickly over my head.
Somehow, I managed to fling myself into bed, get my IV hooked back up, and compose a normal expression on my face before my nurse walked in.
"How are we feeling, today?" she asked, smiling.
Wes was sitting in a chair, reading a magazine, sipping a new cup of coffee calmly. He pointedly ignored the nurse.
"Fine," I lied. My gaze flitted around the room. Miraculously, the mirror and and the floor had been completely wiped clean. There was no blood, no dirt, and no more spilled coffee. The room was spotless.
"Uh, oh, what happened here?" the nurse said suddenly, coming towards the bed. She wasn't looking at me. Behind her, I saw Wes's head shoot up. My heart began to pound irregularly.
Up until that point, I had completely forgotten about my hand. And the fact that it was no longer wrapped.
She gently touched my palm. "Did you take the wrap off?" she queried, eyeing me.
I didn't know what to say. Luckily, Wes cut in.
"It was wrapped too tightly. Earlier, a nurse came in an took it off. Said it needed air to heal." He shot me a quick look.
The nurse seemed satisfied. She quickly forgot about my hand, and instead began fussing over how skinny I was, and how I needed to eat more. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice my wet hair.
When Miss Nosy finally finally left, supposedly to find me more food, Wes and I sighed simultaneously in relief. Then, he frowned, wrinkling his nose.
"What?" I asked, combing my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it down.
He sighed. "It's been awhile since I've lied to anybody," he said with a shake of his head. His dirt-brown hair had gotten shaggy, so that it brushed against his dark eyelashes whenever he moved.
"Well, it was a good lie," I offered.
His frown deepened.
Miss-Nosy-Pants came back abruptly, carrying a tray of food. I hadn't realized how hungry I was, until the scent of eggs, bacon, and toast wafted through the air.
My stomach growled loudly at the smell. As soon as she set the tray down, I was scarfing down the food as if I hadn't eaten anything in days. It sure felt that way.
She left, after awhile, taking an empty tray with her.
I leaned back against my pillows, suddenly very tired. Wes could tell.
"Get some sleep," he said, tossing down the magazine he had been pretending to read.
I looked up at him worriedly. He seemed to read my mind, because he put a hand lightly on my shoulder, instantly making me feel like I was the ten-year old, and he was the sixteen-year old.
"Don't worry. I'll keep watch."
I nodded, pulling my blanket up to my chin. I worked to relax my body, and at some point in the process, I drifted off to sleep. Somewhere in between, I hoped silently that I wouldn't wake up somewhere else.
That was purely wishful thinking.
~*~*~*~
© B. J. Robertson
Chapter 3 coming soon!
Toodle-loo,
Max
Toodle-loo,
Max
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