I Did(n't Do) It

Chapter 21: 1313 (1/2)

After dropping off Violet's friends and grabbing the flowers, Margaret started towards the hospital, giving her daughter a side glance. "Violet, you do not have to go." She said, "Grieving is healthy. It is needed for the heart to heal."

"Mom" Violet turned to look at her, "I need to see her, first, I need closure before healing." With determination in her mind, Violet clutched on to the bouquet, ringing her hands around the stems.

Violet sat in the car after her mom parked, staring up at the bland building.

"It's okay if you don't want to go in." Her mother said, getting ready to start the car up. "We'll just come back later."

"No!" Violet stated, placing her hand hesitantly on the car door handle. "I need to see her....I need to make sure she's okay." With that she pulled the handle, opening the car door and steeping out into the sunlight.

"Want me to come in with you?" Her mother asked, leaning over towards the passenger seat, staring up at Violet.

"No — no, it's okay." Violet muttered, her eyes stayed glued to the dull building towering over her; the windows were reflecting blinding light, while the rest of the building was red brick. Violet took a deep breath before weaving through the parked cars in the parking lot, away from her mother, and towards the front doors. She stopped to let a salt-haired man roll by in a his wheelchair, being supported by his equally snow-capped wife. They smiled at her before slowly making they way through the front doors.

Violet walked in, only to be bombarded by white; white walls, white tiles, white chairs and tables, everything in this place was pristine white. Besides the dash of color thrown in from blood or patients' clothes. The scent of rubbing alcohol made Violet want to puke, but she held it together as she walked to the front desk.

A woman with big, red-tinted brunette hair looked up at Violet over the brim of her small glasses. Violet noted that she looked like a librarian more than a receptionist at a hospital. "Yes?" She said, her voice was that of a genuinely nice woman, although her demeanor was not as inviting. "What can I help you with?"

Violet cleared her throat, leaning over the table a little. "I'm here to see Emily? Johnson? With an H." Violet held the bouquet a little higher, sort of showing it to her.

"And your name?"

"Violet." She replied, without even thinking.

"Hm." The lady licked her finger, flipping through some pages. "Emillia Johnson.. room 1313.." She muttered. She stopped, looking up and down the page before looking back up at Violet. "Sorry, you're not on the visitors list." She promptly put the clipboard back down no the desk and went back to her business.

"Um. Hello, excuse me." Violet leaned down in to her peripheral vision, waving tog et her attention again. "Hi. Me again. Are you sure I'm not on the list? I'm her best friend."

"Yes, ma'am." Her monotonous voice splintered Violet's eardrums. "There was no Violet on the list."

"Could you check again?"

"Hmmm..." The lady looked at Violet, then the clipboard, then back at Violet. "Nope. Still not there."

"Look Miss..." Violet shifted her position to see the boring woman's name badge. "...Blackwell-"

"I've heard enough-"

"-Please!" The desperation in Violet's voice even surprised herself. "Please." She repeated, quieter.

Miss Blackwell sat there for a moment before finally speaking again. "Go sit over there, I'll have security come escort you in a moment. I will." Violet smiled and thanked her through gritted teeth, turning and walking away she was half way to the doors when she glanced back to see the horrid lady turned around. Her back was facing Violet, not long, but enough for Violet to form a plan and bound into action.

Violet crouched beneath the front desk, sneaking around the perimeter of it, her eyes were on the two double doors leading to a room with patients, Violet watched them intently, swinging back and forth.

"Just... go for it." She whispered, looking around and clutching the bouquet before leaping towards the doors.