Chapter four

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 As she sat and watched the custodians pick the table up, no one looked to her for an explanation which was a relief. Lynn guessed that in a place like this they were used to emotional outbursts. For a while she considered going to look for Neb to make sure that he was alright, but then decided not to. The guy had a serious temper which she didn't want to get herself involved with. Plus she was too tired and stressed to be of help anyway.

When she took their plates to the front counter and apologized for his behavior, the young woman working the register thought nothing of it, and tried to give a polite apology to whatever had made him upset. Lynn gracefully excepted it even though she had no idea as to what had caused it, then walked out into the hall where she didn't have to worry about getting in trouble for the mess.

As she went, she ignored her guilt over not looking for him, and occasionally glanced into the rooms with open doors. The white tiled hallway was extremely quiet and spooky. The only sounds came from the occasional flicker of the fluorescent lights that hung overhead and the squeak of a food cart in the hall over. Unable to keep herself from getting creeped out, Lynn spun on her heels to head back to the cafeteria.

"Mrs. Taylor."

"Oh!" Lynn couldn't help but gasp. Standing in-front of  her was an old man in a lab coat. His greying hair, and soft wrinkles threatened to make her trust him, but there was something about his smile that put her off. That, or the quiet hall was making her paranoid. "Sorry, you scared me." She laughed, putting her hand to her chest embarrassed.

"You are the young lady who accompanied the shooting victim, no?"

Nodding, Lynn stuck out her hand. "Yeah, but you don't have to call me Mrs. Taylor. Lynn works."

The man looked down at her hand, but didn't move to accept it. Instead he let his icy dull eyes travel up and down her body, then said her name as if he were tasting each letter. "Well Lynn, your friend has just woken up, and is ready to receive a visitor. He's not doing so well, so I suggest you go while you still can."

The words sent a sliver of ice down her spine and she shivered. The way the man had said it almost seemed like he enjoyed bringing the news. Lynn gave him an official 11 out of ten on the creep factor. "Do you know what room he's in?"

"313, third floor."

"Thank's" She whispered, then rushed away. Once she was as far away from the man's cold gaze as she could get,  she let his words sink in.

Lynn felt sick, but the feeling was soon replaced with a sense of guilt so intense it made her stomach feel as if it were on fire. This is my fault, she thought, hitting the button to the elevator. If I had been paying more attention, or shown myself... suddenly her mind went numb and she couldn't think. "There has to be...There has to be something that I can do, right?"

After getting off the lift, Lynn ducked into the gift shop, and bought him a balloon. It was the only thing in the store she could afford, and she knew very well how pathetic it was. A balloon wasn't enough. He was going to die because of her. The words played over and over in her mind, threatening to make her vomit. When she reached his room number she hardly even noticed. It was like her body was on auto pilot.

Her fingers were numb to the coolness of the door handle, and her mind didn't even register the squeak its hinges. Because her eyes were glazed over with tears, she wasn't  as strongly affected by what she saw when she went inside. The stranger was laying in bed directly across from her. Bandages lined the side of his neck, while oxygen tubes led out of his nose, and a small bruise highlighted his cheek,and somehow he still looked peaceful. His features had smoothed even more, giving his skin a baby look, while his brown hair laid like feathers against his for-head. Lynn might have even been able to say that he was smiling. His lips, barely, if at all, were pulled up at the corners.

Tracing EchoesWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu