Caught Glimpse

Scared blue eyes search,

Search for the number.

Click. Click. Click.

Pallid walls corner me. 

Click. Click. Click.

Gagged by the sterilized smell.

The sour aroma of illness.

Whispering,

Yells and pleas strangled to a murmur. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Left, Right, Forward.  

In the haze I see the door. 

Hand grab me by my limbs,

Pulling me, 

Leading me to the room. 

The room full of watery orbs

The room full of hope

The room full of fresh fear.

A woman with mangled blonde hair rests quietly.

Too quietly,

The quiet I always longed for was deafening.  

I search at for another place to look. 

My crummy over-sized sneakers, 

My trembling hands

Each time I look away I see her. 

There. 

My family watch quietly. Too quietly. 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The whispers turn to squawking. 

The monitor roars in my ears. 

My stomach flips, summersaults. 

The room turns to ice. 

Perspiration drips. 

Breathing becomes labored. 

Colors swirl.

I stumble. 

I run to those pallid halls. 

Leaning on the colorless wall,

My mind is reeling.

Everything goes black. 

Bright colors attack me. 

“Will she be okay.”

“She’ll be fine.”

I smile.