25 Hours

Please give my main character a chance before you make any judgment about her :)

25 Hours

            

                I was scared. No, not even scared; more like terrified.

It was raining, pouring actually. I could feel each drop of water as it landed on my head and fell down my back. My eyes were constantly blinking trying to avoid the onslaught of water, but I didn’t seek refuge like anyone else would be.

I was terrified of a hospital. The children’s hospital loomed in front of me like memories coming back to haunt me. The bright red sign lit up the entrance. Through the glass doors, I could see people of all ages, nationalities, and emotions.

Between a mom hugging a newborn with a tear in her eye or the middle age man who was pacing the room, I knew I didn’t belong here. This wasn’t a place people like me go to. I didn’t belong here. This was a place where family and friends came together to support each other, whether a good cause or bad.

I was still staring up at the bright red sign, trying to get my feet to propel me forward. Just the five feet to the door. Just five small feet that felt like the biggest journey I would ever make.

I stumbled forward when someone knocked into my shoulder. When I looked up, it wasn’t hard to miss the lady walking in front of me carrying a sleeping child. She turned her head around her shoulder to look at me. I could tell as soon as she saw whom she had just run into. Her body tensed as she held her child closer and furrowed her eyebrows.

In less than three seconds she was inside the hospital and off, with nothing but a worried look sent my way.

That lady was just another reminder that I shouldn’t be here.

A clap of thunder sounded somewhere off in the distance. I felt my heart rate increase. My eyes grew wide when the sky lit up with a bright light.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking inside the hospital. The door shut behind me. I found my body welcoming the comforting warmth that was inside the hospital.

My eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the building. I tried to avoid wincing as I made slow, cautious steps toward the front desk. I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me, criticizing and judging, but when I quickly turned around I was relived to not meet any questioning eyes.

“Can I help you?”

My head snapped back around to the receptionist sitting behind the desk. Her hair was neatly pulled back and she looked like she had recently applied lip-gloss. This seemed daunting to me, but not nearly as bad as her snake like eyes that slid up and down my short, frail body in a disgusted manner.

I pulled my torn shirt closer to myself and silently prayed for more protection against the lady’s eyes.

“Are you lost?” she asked.

“No,” I spoke softly. “No, I’m looking for Tracy?”

 “Tracy?” I could read the shock all over her face when I mentioned the volunteer coordinators name, “And may I ask why you are looking for Tracy?”

I heard a shuffle of feet behind me. I turned to see an exasperated man waiting behind me. As I turned back around I exhaled sharply in embarrassment. My shaky hand pulled out the water logged letter from my back pocket. Soundlessly, I passed the letter forward onto the receptionist, not wanting to say the words out loud.

She snorted quietly while reading the letter. “She’s down the hall to the right. Keep on walking until you get to another waiting room, and you will find her there.”