A Nightmare's Fate

The Saddest Goodbye

Chapter Sixteen: The Saddest Goodbye

I arrive in front of a hospital. Why would she send me to one? Does she work here? No, she wouldn't work in a hospital. My mother can barely hold puke down her throat at the mention of blood. And she's not too happy about being a receptionist because she says it's too boring to sit there and be on a computer all day. What about her fiancé? Maybe he's a doctor, a nurse, a surgeon?

            I walk inside, not allowing my craving questions to devour me in thoughts. The room looks nice; chairs are lined around the walls with people waiting, a small flat screen television hangs from the wall, the carpet is a maroon color, a small play area that is cut off with a small white gate stands in the corner of the room with toys and a few children. The wall next to the play area has a rainbow painted on it and a few children holding hands.

            I walk up to the receptionist desk, the woman behind it is very old. Her hair is white and she's skinny; it almost makes me want to gag. "May I help you?" she questions politely.

            "Yes, I'm looking for a woman named Lauren Whestly or she might have put it under her––"

            "She's in room 43b dearie. Use the elevator up to the fourth floor, take a right and the room should be around the corner,” she says with a smile.

            I nod, mouthing "thank you" to her and going on my way. I press the button to the elevator and it opens, exposing a few people who get out and scatter around. I walk inside while a couple others step with me and we wait for our stops. The questions finally break through my mind, swarming around me. Is she hurt? Why is she here? What's happening?

            The door opens to the fourth floor and I pace myself around the corner where some people sit in chairs, some of them bending their heads down like they're crying and they don't want anyone to see their eyes filled with tears. Once I get closer, I realize one of them is my mother.

            Her head lifts up as she sees me. "I'm so glad you called." She stands and hugs me.

            "What's happening?" I ask, looking at the others she was sitting with. A small child with—I who I am guessing is his mother—sits on one of the chairs with his head in his lap. He looks to be six years old, maybe eight at the most. He has dark blonde hair and brown eyes, similar to my father's. He's my step-brother.

            The elder woman looks to be around my mother's age, about forty-seven, somewhere around there. She has blonde hair and greenish-blue eyes. And a man sits next to her who doesn't look to be crying, but I may be wrong. He has black hair and hazel eyes. He must be my mother's fiancé.

            "Your father . . . he's in the room,” she says through sobs.

            My mind wanders as she says "father." I slowly pace my way to the blue door, grasping the handle and turning the knob. All my troubles wash over me once I step inside, a burden weighing upon my shoulders.

            I quickly look around the large room; a television stands on a dresser, the floor is white tile, a small couch is to the end of the room next to a window looking out to the parking lot in the front of the hospital, and a bed on wheels stands in the middle of the room by the wall where a computer is that tells the blood pressure of the patient.

            An old man lies on the bed, his hair gone and his mouth curves up to a small smile. "There's my girl," he says. I get near him and sit by a chair that is right next to his bed.