sickly (dylan o'brien a.u.)

t h r e e

d y l a n

i awoke in a cold sweat at exactly 3 am every night. tonight was no exception. i looked at my mother sleeping in the hospital bed next to me. the machine monitoring her vitals beeped steadily, everything remaining stable. good, she was okay - for the night, at least. i knew i wasn't supposed to wander around the hospital at night, but i just couldn't go back to sleep. these episodes of sleep apnea kept me exhausted throughout the day, but once i was up, there was no way i was going back to sleep.

nurses disregarded me as i made my way through the hallways. i was hoping to stumble upon a vending machine or something. i was starving. the surgical wing was gloomy at night; yes, the surgical wing. although my mother's tumor was clearly inoperable, and she had been doomed for death a long time ago, dr. flock wanted to try. she wanted to save her. i was grateful for that.

neon light illuminated a small square of the hospital's green linoleum, indicating a vending machine. i headed towards it, my stomach rumbling. once the glass window onlooking my options was in front of me, i pulled out my wallet, pondering whether i wanted a pop tart or potato chips. i didn't realize someone was waiting behind me until they cleared their throat. i turned around, coming face to face with a very beautiful girl. her hazel eyes and auburn hair looked strange in the dim light, but i could tell she had been crying. she pulled her "sacramento charter high track" jacket around her more tightly, staring up at me.

"some of us have places to be, so if you'd kindly hurry up and choose your early morning snack, that would be great." i was shocked at how straight forwardly she stated it. her timid appearance had me fooled. i didn't say a word, just turned around and quickly got my potato chips, fleeing the scene. i heard her call out thank you to me, but it dripped with sarcasm. i had no intentions of this girl beating me up or something, so i practically ran back to my mom's room. by then, it was almost 4 am. i ate the chips as quietly as i could, thinking about the girl. i had never seen her at sacramento charter before. then again, i didn't have much room for a social life with my dying mother and all.

as usual, i managed to slip out of the hospital room before my mom woke up. most days she never woke up at all, the mixture of medications she was on forcing her into sleep. i freshened up and changed for school, stopping by the room again in case she did wake up. she didn't.

catching a bus to school, i realized i had an essay to do for homework last night that i completely forgot about. "shit, shit, shit," i muttered, rushing to pull my computer out of my bag. i thought maybe, by some grace of god, i could get it finished before i arrived at school. i didn't, of course. instead, i rushed to my first block english, nervous of telling mr. hartell i didn't complete the assignment. instead, a substitute was sitting in his spot at the desk, looking over the lesson plans.

one by one, people slowly filed into the room. once the bell rang, the sub immediately started class. "mr. hartell is dealing with family issues right now. his wife was hospitalized, and we don't know when he'll be back. so, i guess you're stuck with me." she smiled. "please send out your prayers to mrs. hartell. hopefully she'll have a safe and quick recovery. i won't be collecting the essays assigned. mr. hartell has requested those be turned in upon his return. now, today you will be reading folklore on page 674 of your literature books."

i only got to about page 681 when the principal, mrs. hudson, and one of the guidance counselors knocked on the door, speaking in whispers to the sub. i heard her utter an, "oh my" before turning back to the class. "dylan? dylan o'brien?" i wasn't sure if i wanted to raise my hand or not. what if it was something bad? of course it's going to be something bad. when has your life ever gone your way? i told my subconscious to stick it where the sun don't shine and stood up, beginning to collect my things. i made my way out into the hallway, trying my best to avoid the stares my classmates were giving me. i would forever be the unusually quiet jock who always got called out of class and didn't return for weeks on end.